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seattlesellie · 11 months

Note

thinkin abt eating bbf!ellie out while she’s gaming and on a call with reader’s brother ☺️

she would have to keep muting her headset every 30 seconds bc she couldn’t keep quiet and eventually would just toss her controller on the floor and end the call so she could fuck reader stupid while reader’s brother is spamming her w texts asking where she went 😭

-🪷

ok u got me with this… 💗🪷

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

ʚɞ it was purely innocent at first, you swore to god it was. what’s so wrong about sitting on your girlf— well, that isnt quite right. on your frien— god, thats not exactly it either. on your… brother’s best friends (that’s better) lap while she’s playing a video game? she let you in, in fact, she signaled you to come closer with a small pat on her thigh before you did. “m’not a dog…” you scoffed, pouting before rolling your eyes, desperately trying to hide the fact that even that mere, simple gesture made it feel funny in your stomach. “no, but you’re my—“ she stopped, and grazed the corner of her mouth with her tongue. “just come warm me up”

ʚɞ that was her excuse for everything. wanted to hold your hand after splitting you raw? it’s just to warm her up. move closer while her arm is loosely placed on your chest while “hugging” you from behind while laying on the bed? come warm her up. she’d never admit she just yearned to feel you close, craved to touch you at any given moment, as if you’d slip away if she didn’t.

ʚɞ she was wearing her headset, and a couple of baby hairs frizzled up on the top of her head. both hands on the controller, wrapped tightly around your waist, continuously yelling at someone you guessed was a complete stranger she was playing with. “who are you talking to?” you questioned, trying to stop yourself from grinning at how cute she looked with her tongue poking out of her mouth when she was hyperfocused on the screen. “shh…” she sushed, slightly blowing out her eyes. “your brother”

“he can hear me?!” fuck. that came out way too loud. she abruptly placed her left palm on your lips, to shut you up. “just a sec, man” she spoke into the mic. “you cant make any noise” she whispered, and when you winced, she smirked. “just watch, and keep quiet”

ʚɞ being quiet, was not exactly your forte. especially not when you were supposed to (it was as if someone placed a red button with a huge sign of “do not press!”— you have to press.) and especially, while you were sat on ellie’s lap, and she kept sniffling and huffing and cursing those little “fuck” and “shit” under her breath and the air she blew, caressed your neck and made you shiver and… her hand, on that damn controller, her fingers circling the silicone ball, her thumb, to be more specific, and it’s a little fucking distracting— how she happens to bounce her leg, making you bounce up and down with it’s movement, every time she's upset someone had killed her in the game, and how when she wins a round, she lays herself back on the chair, spreads her legs and cockily murmurs into the mic “fucking got you, asshole”

ʚɞ did she know what she was doing, as she slapped your thigh when she won the 3rd round in a row? did she know that when she bounced you up and down, your tummy flipped and your eyes rolled back? even if she did know, what you did next was so not fair to her.

ʚɞ you pressed your ass deep inside her lap, making the fat squish down on her thigh, and she cleared her throat, and chuckled. clearly, it did something to her, her throat feeling suddenly dry, but she didn’t want you to know. you stopped, and she readjusted herself, straightening her back. “i’m out of fuc…ing ammo” and with that, you pressed your ass down even deeper into ellie’s lap, cause her face to twitch in the slightest. “give me some fuc—“ now, you purely rocked your ass back and forth on her crotch, staring at the screen, attempting to appear as aloof as you could. it made her stretch her head back, and huff out a small, shaky breath. she placed her hand on your thigh, and squeezed hard. it wasn’t a nice, thoughtful gesture, it was a sign to stop fucking moving, you’ve been warned. she was on a winning streak and you were about to ruin it.

ʚɞ your shorts were truly way too short, bordering on underwear, the material was truly too thin, and she could feel every inch of you through her sweats. your thighs, your feet rocking back and forth and kicking her on purpose, and your ass who grew to be the biggest distraction of all— “just a sec dude, im pausing just… taking a water break”

she was going to lose, and she knew it.

she took the headset off, and placed it, no— threw it on the table. “what are you doing?” she murmured in a low, raspy voice. you managed to catch your breath, and attempted to sound as angelic and innocent as you possibly could. “nothing…?” you quipped, and smiled softly. ellie slightly nodded her head up and down. “keep doing nothing, see where that gets you”

“not doing anything, swear” and the way you put your hand on your chest, right where your heart is, and then palmed it to give it the smallest, gentlest squeeze… “jesus fucking christ” she huffed, and stared down. she wasn’t going to get out of this, and she certainly wasn't going to win.

ʚɞ she spread her thighs wider, with you sat directly on her thigh, and put her headset back on. two can play this game. she didn’t want your brother to know about you two, and you didn’t want him to know even more. you moved yourself to sit right on her center, right where her crotch is, and the wheeze that came out of her mouth— “fffuck”

“you good, ellie?” that was your brother’s voice popping out of her headset. you were that close to her face. your cheek pressed up on her’s, and you moaned inside her ear, a small “aaah, ellie” and you knew that would get her, because nothing made her wetter than those damn moans, and when you added her name in the mix—she cleared her throat, and if you saw the way her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyelids simply resting shut because she had to physically restrain herself, you’d have probably started whining and begging. “m’good, yeah—keep going” was she talking to you, or to him? you made up your mind. she was talking to you.

ʚɞ you grinded youself back and forth again and again, and you knew you rubbed her right where she needed you. you pressed down hard, and it hit right on her clit. “god” she huffed, her breaths growing shaky and uneven. she bumped her crotch into your ass and it made you squeal like a chew toy. “sh— shut up” she groaned, and hastily placed her palm on your mouth again. “shut the fuck up bro”. it was truly disgusting, how turned on you were by grinding yourself up against her, letting her clothed crotch hump your ass. ellie, desperately dug her palm extra hard on the controller, as she felt a glob of slick leaking out of her cunt, because she knew that if she let it go, her hand would immediately drop down to your pussy, and start fucking you raw on the chair.

ʚɞ the wet, sticky patch in your underwear grew bigger and bigger every time you bounced, circling your ass in fast, needy movements on her crotch as if you were trying to win a race. ellie's mind left the game already, completely blind to what was happening on the screen, but kept on pretending. it was funny to her, truly, how pathetic you looked. your movements growing messy, sweat sticking down your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth, and she almost let you use her body to cum, and you swore you almost did. your small chocked out breaths were growing heavier and needier, and you huffed small whispers of her name in broken little sentences. “mmhm el-lie” she smirked, and placed her hand up on the small mic to block the obscenity that was about to escape her lips; "about to cum in those little fucking panties? hm? you’re so fucking slutty”

ʚɞ and thats exactly when you stopped, and peeled your shaky body off of her. she seemed confused for a second, because god she was loving it, the way you tried to get her flustered and turned out a needy, flustered, moaning mess yourself. she didn’t even need to do anything, just purely exist, for you to nearly cum inside your shorts. her lips curled into to a small, teasing smile. “what are you doing?” she mouthed. you got down on your knees, placing yourself directly in front of her crotch. ellie hovered over you in a manspread, and you put your chin right on the chair. “nothing” you mouthed back, and gave her a small pout. she huffed, as her game character stood idly on the ground, a black rifle in her hand, and your brother paced nearer and nearer. you placed your hands on her thighs, and batted your eyelashes. she sighed, and gazed at you with a prying look.

“you’re gonna fucking kill me”

“hell fucking yes i am” your brother exclaimed, muffled in her headset.

ʚɞ you didn’t even peel the grey sweats out of her body, you straight up yanked them down. what you saw… didn’t disappoint you in the slightest. a wet spot, perhaps even bigger than yours, making her black boxers take even a darker shade of black. you let out a shaky “oh my… god”, as she slid off of the chair, her eyes rolling back. “m’playing… just keep fucking going i’m playing” again, she wasn’t talking to you, or was she? she looked at you again, warning you. you blinked slowly, trying to tease her as much as you could. ellie's eyes squinted, and she hesitated for a moment. she brought her hand down and caressed the top of your head. although she was gentle, you could tell how crazy you were driving her. she bucked her hips forward, and mouthed; “lick”

ʚɞ firstly, you gave a small lick to the soft fabric, and felt her tangy sweet taste just merely grazing your pink muscle. then, she aggressively patted her hand on the top of your head, again, and made you look up at her. her eyes turned a darker shade of emerald green, and she looked angry. “dont play with me” she mouthed, and squeezed your cheeks together. she gave the right one a small pat, and then a stinging little slap, making you yelp. she was in control, and she was going to use you.

ʚɞ she placed the controller on your fucking head, and pushed her soaking boxers down, to lay loosely wrapped aound her ankles. ellie pushed your face forward to meet her weeping core, and you immediately stuck your tongue out, to gift a delicate, slow lick to her glistening, peachy pink folds. you pushed it inside of her hole, and she clenched right on it. she gripped the controller harder, and looked absolutely gone. no matter how hard she pushed your head, you didn’t dare to ever meet her clit, the brat that you are, because you thought it was so much more fun to watch her suffer. “mmfuck” she groaned, “fuck— y-you man” and the way she whimpered right into the mic; “m’good dude just— fuck just my arm hurts” and looked downwards to give you a look that was purely warning you— keep on playing with her like that and she’d fucking make it hurt.

ʚɞ it was torturous, and she really got truly delirious, the way in which you licked around her cunt, stopping your movements to plant a simple, delicate little kiss on her thigh, just to hear her respond with a throaty groan, look down at you with her bangs sticking to her forehead, hand shaking around the black controller, biting her lip hard— because if she didn't, she would have moaned so loud she'd get kicked out of your family's home for fucking with your brother's precious sister. she shook her thigh to get you off of it, and it signaled to stop fucking teasing. "I can'— fuck— man fuck, im gonna fucking— lose the fucking game" she stutters, sounding like a complete idiot, biting her fist hard and twisting her face, her jaw clenched so tight because if he hears her, he's gonna think she's either about to pass completely out, or think she's in heat— and the fact that you won't, absolutely refuse to give her needy clit any attention, and the way you look so concentrated on torturing her, keeping your eyes fixated on her’s, acting all brave because you know she cant talk, and cant do anything because she’s fucking “busy” oh, you pissed her off— your mouth stuffed with her cunt, looking up to her as if you're not trying to kill her;

nope. she can't do this anymore. she grabbed the back of your neck forcefully, and pulled yourself off of her. you pout, and then you're slightly terrified, because the controller just met the floor with a loud thud. "i'll be back in 5 minutes" she breathlessly talks into the mic.

“swear— five fucking minutes, gimme five”

ʚɞ you both stare at each other for a moment, as if you're communicating with just looks, and she lifts herself off of the chair and you pounce back, but she's quicker than you.

you dont know how you find yourself pushed against the mattress, with her hand around your throat. she's not pressing, it's just wrapped around it, and she's angry.

"you fucking..." you look to the side, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. the wall, apparently, has a lot to say. "look at me" she whispers, and forces you to turn your head around and face her. freckles splattered all over her face, you try and concentrate on them but she's chasing your eyes.

ʚɞ she's too quick, it's all too fucking quick and you whine so loud, your back arching off of the bed and she presses you down, shoves her hand inside of your panties and chuckles; "you're a fucking... you're so fucking..." she’s breathless, and famished, because she doesn't even finish that sentence before her lips are on yours, hips jerking forward, as soon as she feels the puddle, or the sea, that's right inside your panties.

"fucking tease"

ʚɞ you swear you’re vibrating on her hand. “pl—ease” you plead, your voice whiney and quiet because all of a sudden, ellie has the upper arm, and you, poor you— can’t tease her anymore. “please what?” she coos. “please ellie…” and she cups your tits, both of them, and squeezes them together so tight it makes you leak down your thigh.

“s’not good enough” she tsk’s, bringing her forehead to meet yours. she merely hovers over your clit, and it’s that friction you were looking for so hard and—

her phone buzzes.

“where the fuck are you?”

“?”

“????”

“hello?”

she places the phone screen in front of you, pinches your chin with her index finger and her thumb, makes sure you actually look, and types;

“i’m fucking your sister, brb”

your breath hitches, and she chuckles, deeply and mockingly, like shes making fun of you.

“should i press send?” she teases.

“no…” you stutter, and yet again, attempt to wear the purest, most angelic and divine expression on your face. “oh… no?” she mocks, plunging a finger inside of you deep, cooing at how you gasp silently, imitating your gasp right back to you.

“nonono” you blabber incoherently, and she’s not even moving her finger, just letting you warm it inside.

“s’too bad…”

and with that, she presses “send.”

a moment passes.

“not funny dude”

oh, he didn’t buy it.

#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🪷 anon #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie smut #bbf!ellie

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blue-jisungs · 2 months

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JAM & BUTTERFLY

author's note. i love wonwoo so much?! also this songs is so cute wtf:(

summary. just a sweet morning with your boyfie<3

word count. 1036

warnings. may appear as a slightly suggestive if u squint :3 and! shirtless wonu (blame @slytherinshua)

warmth spread on your skin, sunlight peeking on you through the window. as you slowly stirred awake, you embraced the feeling of coziness – fresh air, comfortable blanket and duvet, fluffy pillow… warmth, so much of it.

but in a pleasant way. a way that hugs you and surrounds you in a bear alike grasp.

and you knew that another source of it was your personal teddy bear boyfriend wonwoo.

finally peeking an eye open, you saw the man himself. and, as per usual, mere seconds after waking up you were already stunned by his beauty.

he had his glasses on, resting on the ridge of his pretty nose. plush lips were parted as he was focused. wonwoo was reading a book, holding it with his right hand – pinky and thumb holding the pages down as the rest of fingers were supporting the weight. his upper back was pressed against the headrest, probably not the most comfortable position.

the sunlight fell on his figure, usually ebony eyes being now lighter, reminding you of pools of honey. they moved as he scanned the letters, fully emerged in the text.

sliding your gaze down, to his attractive neck and collarbones… down to his bare chest. you couldn’t help but smile, the gesture probably imprinting on his skin.

that is always a signal that the weather has shifted and it’s warmer: wonwoo is sleeping without his shirt. not the flowers blooming or astrological signs… just wonwoo and his lack of upper piece of clothing.

”someone’s awake, hm?” he hummed, his deep morning voice sending shivers down your spine. you’ll never get used to this - even though his voice (and laugh) might be the most beautiful sound in the whole universe.

“mhm…” you purred, too lazy to form words yet.

you just realised wonwoo’s left hand was holding you. it snuck under your (his) oversized t-shirt and moved in soothing motions on your bare back.

deciding to get even more of him, you shuffled closer and tucked your head in the crook of his neck.

“i made breakfast, it’s still warm” wonwoo announced softly and you could feel the vibrations coming from his neck when he spoke.

whatever he did, it always gave you butterflies. whether it was… breakfast in the morning or just washing the dishes for you. he made feel like a teenager again; all sweet inside.

“in a sec…” you grunted, letting your eyes close again. you were just so… comfy… so…

“hey, misses, don’t snooze” wonwoo chuckled, his chest buzzing. a smile sprung on your lips but your eyes remained closed.

“you’re reading either way, i’ll just nap” replying, you weren’t sure how he understood you: half of your words came out as a slurred speech.

but he understood, he always did.

you felt him move a bit, probably to put the book away. then, it was all sudden but oh so soft, his right arm wrapped around you as well. your face momentarily squished into his chest (not like you minded) before he quite literally manhandled you – rolled over a bit closer and then made you sit up on his lap. trapping him between your thighs, one hand resting on his chest and the other rubbing your eye in a sleepy manner.

this was apparently very funny because wonwoo laughed wholeheartedly, hands squeezing your sides.

“what?” you huffed, trying to act annoyed.

“you’re just so cute, baby” he replied with that boyish smile of his.

there was a certain way in which he looked at you. for a while you didn’t realise, only when your friends pointed it out: wonwoo admired you, looked at you as if you hung the stars yourself.

“don’t look at me like that” you giggled, realising he’s doing it now. sure, he wasn’t doing it in purpose. but wonwoo just couldn’t help himself but scan your pretty features, take in your appearance in front of him – basking in sunlight, having messy hair and a bare face.

“why?” your boyfriend teased, poking your sides gently.

“because i’m shy” you let out a grunt and hung your head down, trying to hide your face from him.

“ah…” he sighed, amused. you moved closer and pecked his forehead, taking his hands off you in the meantime.

and then you tried to escape, to brush your teeth.

keyword: tried.

because in no time wonwoo’s cat-alike instincts trapped you in his hold again.

“where are you running off to?” he teased and patted the spot were you were sleeping. you sat there, crossing your legs and as you yawned loudly, he placed down the breakfast on a wooden trace.

fresh strawberries and some watermelon (no blueberries, though), toast with jam, croissants with chocolate and coffee.

“when did you prepare that?” you asked and reached for a strawberry. wonwoo shrugged and grabbed the toast.

“i woke up quite early, couldn’t sleep. i went on a run and on my way back i made the coffee. i decided to leave it here and read a chapter or two… and then you woke up” your boyfriend explained casually but your heart was racing like crazy. he’s saying it like it’s nothing but… you were whipped. wonwoo was like honey, you were like a bee – not only was he sweet but it would always make you stick to him. maybe it was a cliche metaphor but that’s how you felt.

you noticed a bit of strawberry jam in the corner of his lips and you just smiled, reaching for the croissant.

“thank you, i appreciate it” you hummed before taking a bite.

“anything for you, angel” wonwoo smiled sweetly.

after finishing the breakfast and putting away the plates, you decided to stay in bed a little more. you grabbed a tissue and cleaned wonwoo’s face from the jam, giggles and chuckles escaping from both of you.

“a big baby, hm?” you cooed, cracking a grin. wonwoo just rolled his eyes dramatically and after you threw away the tissue, he pulled you closer. capturing your lips in a kiss, you could taste the sweet, sweet strawberry jam. smiling into the kiss, melting upon the moment you came to a conclusion that what’s what dating wonu feels like. like jam and butterflies.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyuuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

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barlowstreet · 1 year

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I'm gonna talk about something cute because it gives me an excuse to rewatch stuff.

I think the like Doylist explanation for this is partly that TV shots just generally are closer to show the actors' faces + Bella and Pedro just being close as people, but if you're looking just at text of the show, it's really funny and cute to me how at some point Ellie basically decides that Joel's personal space is also her personal space.

"I just saw you beat a man to death and like twenty minutes ago we were acting like we hated each other but like I'm going to walk six inches away from you so I can annoy you easier."

More under the cut for long

She smacks him with the tape, basically leans on him to show it to him, smacks him with the magazine. It's so casual.

When he takes the map, she leans right into his space to look at it.

When they get shot at, she squishes in right next to him basically as close as she can get without actually touching him.

When they're doing rifle practice and he takes the gun, she barely gives him room to shoot.

"You're keeping me now, motherfucker, we're cuddling."

#the last of us #tlou hbo #ellie williams #joel miller #your honour i love them #they're just cute #i like ellie invading joel's personal space #and him just accepting it

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gyuslcve · 11 months

Text

svt when they’re clingy

genre: headcanons, humor (i like to think that i’m funny)

rq: not a request!

notes: my previous write was getting more love than i thought oml ;-; thank yall

SEVENTEEN WHEN THEY’RE CLINGY

choi seungcheol

✧ most clingy when he doesn’t wanna wake up

✧ pouty babie

✧ would n o t let go of his hold on your waist

✧ nuzzles into your hair

✧ “hnggph.. ‘don’t wanna wake up..”

yoon jeonghan

✧ this man may be a tease but he’s a clinger

✧ extra clingy when asking for something from you

✧ holds onto your arm and rests his head on your shoulder

✧ lots of cheek kisses

✧ “c’mon baby.. pretty please?”

hong joshua

✧ rarely clingy, but when he is he really could get away with anything

✧ gets touchy

✧ likes to hug you from the back while caressing your torso

✧ places kisses here and there

✧ murmurs “i love you”’s

wen junhui

✧ neck! kisses!!!!

✧ gets clingy more often than you think

✧ backhugs (2)

✧ texts 24/7

✧ “baby where you goin’ ?” “the toilet..?”

kwon soonyoung

✧ clings to you 24/7

✧ extra clingy when he’s drunk

✧ peppering kisses all over your face

✧ pet names, lots of it

✧ “y/n my baby i love you so so soo much”

jeon wonwoo

✧ clingy when cuddling

✧ secretly loves cuddling but doesn’t tell you

✧ neck kisses (2)

✧ fiddles with your hands while he holds them

✧ not a words of affirmation guy but will make sure you feel safe with him <33

lee jihoon

✧ sorry, he does not cling

✧ shows a shitton of affection through his actions tho

✧ on days where he needs you the most, he would take the initiative to hold your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles

xu minghao

✧ clingy when he’s tired

✧ asks for cuddle sessions

✧ doesn’t really talk, just rests his head on your shoulder

kim mingyu

✧ clingy a l l the time

✧ lots of skinship

✧ squishes your cheeks

✧ kisses on your lips and forehead

✧ hugs you and smooths out your hair gently

lee seokmin

✧ clingy when he’s happy hehe

✧ interlaces his fingers with yours

✧ occasionally flashes you a smile and gives you cheek kisses (awh)

boo seungkwan

✧ turns into such a baby when he’s clingy :(

✧ is so giggly

✧ nuzzles into your neck

✧ loves playing w your hair

✧ pickup lines outta nowhere

chwe vernon

✧ like minghao, he doesn’t really talk a lot

✧ asks you to watch movies with him but ends up being a cuddle session

✧ places his head on your shoulder

✧ looks up at you every once in a while and smiles

✧ chuckles when you catch him looking at you

lee chan

✧ so, so, so loving

✧ spoons you and showers you with love

✧ forehead kisses (and smiles while doing it)

✧ NEVER lets go of your hands

✧ “do you know how much i like holding you like this?… a lot baby”

authors note: aaarhhjsjf need soft svt rn ,!:&;!;

p.s. feel free to send me prompts/requests!

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 1 year

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Ungrateful

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Peter likes to have full control over you, one way or another.

WARNINGS: Toxic/Abusive Relationship; Controlling boyfriend; minor Violence.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

“Who were you talking to?” the question itself is harmless but you know that he’s burning with the need to know, his controlling behavior rising to the surface.

Like it always does, even after the endless promises to be better.

“It’s just my sister.” you close the phone, raising your head just in time to see Peter staring at your phone, an expression on his face that gives you a bad feeling and you unconsciously tighten your hold on the device.

“Can I have your phone for a minute? I need to make a call.” he holds out his hand and you bite your lip, conflicted.

“Peter…I-You promised you’d stop doing that.” you’re barely able to finish the sentence before Peter cuts you off.

“I’m not gonna read your messages, okay?! Gosh, don’t you fucking trust me?” you don’t. He kicks the chair next to you, making you flinch.

He glares at you, brown eyes filled with annoyance and you barely have time to react before his hand snaps forward, snatching the phone from you.

The device easily slips from between your fingers and you gasp, your body following the phone before you bump into Peter, helplessly trying to get the phone back.

But Peter is stronger than you, holding himself out of your reach, his hand holding down both of your wrists, effectively stopping you from making grabby hands.

“Peter, stop it! It’s not funny!”

He ignores you, his attention solely focused on the phone. Your mouth drops as Peter enters the code - you haven’t told him the most recent code, not after he kept spying on your phone without your knowledge.

“Peter, what-What the hell?” you squirm against him, unable to fight him off. His grip getting painful by the second.

“Who’s Jake? Can you fucking explain that to me?” he finally releases you and you stumble back, too stunned to speak. You weakly rub the sore skin of your wrists, but Peter grabs you by the elbow, pulling you closer before you can get away.

“So?” he questions you, “Who's he? You like him, don’t you?”

You press your lips together, trying to keep tears at bay as you look at Peter, his face molded into a monstrous one, his usual kindness now fully gone.

“He’s just a classmate.” Peter scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Sure, sure. And that’s why you’re being all nice and flirty with him when you barely even reply to my texts - your own boyfriend.” he tilts his head to the side, nostrils flaring up.

“Maybe if you weren’t so controlling I’d answer your texts.” the words escape your mouth before you can control yourself. Bad idea.

“Peter, I’m so sor-”

Peter doesn’t let you finish the sentence, his free hand squishing your cheeks together, fingers harshly digging into the soft muscles.

“You’re so ungrateful, you know that?” he spits, an incredulous expression taking over his face, “I love you. That’s why I worry and care so much for you.”

“If you were with anyone else, they wouldn’t give a shit about you.” he continues, his tone getting meaner by the second. “You should be grateful that you have me in your life. Cause I’m the best deal you’re ever gonna get.”

A small whimper comes out from you, tears fully cascading down your face and Peter lets you go. Your body is frozen and you just stand there as Peter brings back his hand to your face, this time with a gentler touch.

He rubs the back of his fingers against your cheek, a deranged glint on his eyes.

“You need to understand that I’m only doing this because I love you so much. I’m doing this for us, so don’t fight me, princess.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #yandere!peter parker #yandere!peter parker x reader #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw: dark content #tw: toxic relationships #dark!fic #dark fic

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forlorn-crows · 1 month

Text

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 1: 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

pairing(s): aeon/swiss words: 656

✿

He’s barely visible under the fuzzy gray blanket that’s pulled around his body. With his legs tucked up against his chest, fabric cocooned around him, he looks like a kit drowning in a terry cloth towel after a bath. Only Aeon’s round face, screwed up in concentration with the ends of his hoodie strings between his teeth, and knobby hands, plunking away at his new basic smartphone, are visible to Swiss.

In simple terms, he’s too cute to handle. Swiss’ fingers itch to grab and poke, squish the cuteness right out of him. Aeon grumbles something about the tiny keyboard, big pointed ear twitching as he stabs at the screen, and the multi ghoul cannot stand it for another second.

“Whatcha doin’, bug?” he calls from his chair opposite the couch.

Aeon chirps, peeking up from the screen. His hair sticks up on top when he lifts his head. “Hm?”

Swiss is going to scream. “I said ‘whatcha doin’’?”

“Well,” he spits out the hoodie strings, shifting a bit. “I’m trying to figure out this . . . texting thing. But Dew keeps sending me funny little faces after I accidentally send him random letters. The keys are so small, how do you do this?”

“You’ll get it, just takes some time. At least you have smaller thumbs.” Swiss wiggles both of his in Aeon’s direction. “That’ll help.”

Aeon huffs, corners of his mouth turning down, lower lip sticking out; he pouts. He’s pouting. Why must Copia always summon the adorable ones? And why can Swiss just never keep his hands off of them?

The frown remains in place even as Swiss hops out of his seat and sits down beside the newbie quint. Swiss shakes his head and chuckles. “Why’re you so damn cute?”

Aeon side-eyes him. Scoffs a little and rolls his eyes. “Cute?” he accuses.

“Have you seen yourself?”

“I mean, yeah, I look in the mirror everyday—”

“No,” Swiss laughs, “right now. With your blanket and your little phone and that pouty face.” The multi ghoul pokes him right in the cheek, emphasizing said frown.

“You make me sound like a child,” Aeon grumbles and flinches away, sticking his tongue out as he locks his phone and shoves it into the couch cushions. He pulls the blanket even tighter around himself. But there’s a smile tugging at his lips, even as he continues to side-eye Swiss.

Once again, he is going to scream. “You make me crazy,” he admits stupidly, shaking his head. “I just wanna,” he makes a vague grabby-hands motion, indicating his frustration, “ugh, I just wanna scrunch you up and put you in my pocket, baby.”

“Front pockets are preferable, please.” Aeon grins suddenly, showing off his fangs.

Swiss blinks. Momentarily stunned to silence—an incredibly rare feat for this ghoul.

“You little—” He springs into action, leaning close and poking his thick fingers everywhere: his neck, behind his ears, the dimples in his cheeks. Aeon squawks in protest, but that does nothing to stop the onslaught. He growls playfully and grabs his cheeks, squishing and smushing and squeezing.

“‘wiss,” the quint attempts to complain—keep it together, really—through pushed-together cheeks. “‘top, bhat’re you—”

“I’m sorry, but you’re too adorable to live,” Swiss explains. “Gotta stop you before you reach mach cuteness or everyone’ll die.” Aeon whines, removing his arms from the blanket to swat at him to no avail. Swiss is quick to release his cheeks, grabbing his wrists instead and pinning his arms to his chest.

“Gah, what the fu—” Swiss cuts him off with a cross between a snarl, a growl, and a weird noise a disgruntled-slash-scared cat would make, completely dramatic and unserious, diving in to his neck open-mouthed so he can graze his skin with the front of his teeth repeatedly with fake bites. Aeon can only toss his head back and giggle ferociously and against his will.

“Gonna eat you,” Swiss growls. “C’mere.”

“Why are you like this?!”

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿

#mushy may 2024 #the band ghost fanfic #aeon ghoul #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #swiss/aeon #aeon/swiss #phantom/swiss #swiss/phantom #aeon x swiss #swiss x aeon #phantom x swiss #swiss x phantom #mushy may #ficlet

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formulaforza · 8 months

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hbd my lil' lemonade connoisseur!

I'm saying blurb for Charles; him coming to surprise you at University or something?

—the nearness of you

summ. title from this. i'm only twenty-two days late on this req. that's got to be a new record for me. 800+ words.

It was like any other day as of late. Full of brutal seven-am alarms and even more brutal eight o’clock classes across campus. Half a dozen assignments due before the end of the week, a baker’s dozen by the following.

Campus was surprisingly dead and the weather was wonderfully crisp and you had no idea the turn your evening was about to take when you’d decided to take a walk at sunset, to clear your mind with the cool autumn air.

It greets you with a shudder and the sound of browned leaves crunching under your feet. It was like a scene from a movie—something utterly fall-ish and romantic. When Harry met Sally, maybe. All cable knit sweaters and falling leaves and careful scenery.

Unbeknownst to you, he—Charles, your Charles—is walking around the same campus, enjoying his walk a hell of a lot less than you are. He doesn’t notice the smell of burnt orange or the falling leaves on the green grass. He’s too occupied trying to find his way to your friend’s hall—to your friend’s dorm—to you. His mind is full of mumbled directions and the pursed lips they leave. Of how perfect yours are, of how badly he wants to kiss them.

He’d been planning the surprise for weeks. For months, almost, since before you’d even left home for the year. He’s prouder of his ability to keep it secret from you than he is of his directional skills. Carefully, he’d coordinated the whole thing with your friends to ensure the perfect surprise, and it was finally here. It was finally here, as long as he could find his fucking way around.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket, a text from your best friend. She was asking you to swing by her dorm ASAP, swore she had a shirt of yours that you could swear you’d folded and put away two nights earlier. You complied, though, and gave her your ETA before making a U-Turn on the path you were walking down.

When you finally make it there, you’re surprised to find her always-open door is shut. You’re even more surprised when you move to turn the door handle only to find it locked. You look around the hall like a trick is being played on you because her door is always open. Always. And you don’t think she even knew there was a lock.

You knock, thrice, and call her name on the other side of the door, reminding her that this isn’t as funny as she surely thinks it is. Nothing, however, could prepare you for who answered your knock.

Charles. Charles with a bouquet of flowers. Charles with a bouquet of flowers and a big goofy smile on his face. Your stomach drops three separate times in a single second—from annoyed your friend isn’t answering, to horrified by someone else answering her door, to recognizing that it’s him. That he’s in front of you.

You squish the flowers horribly, completely disregard their presence in your joy of slamming yourself into him with the force of every hour apart. “Putain, c'est quoi!” What the fuck! you say, and your voice comes out far more cracked than you’d intended on it being.

With Charles, you’ve found that you don’t realize just how much you miss him until you’re with him again, ambushed by the reality of it all, of everything that is to love about him. There’s so much, so much more than you realize each and every time you’re apart. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but you’re always fond of him. The fondest.

The evening unfolds into a flurry of laughter and stories and love. So much love. It’s like his presence had cast a spell over campus, made it all magical and energized like it was your first time there. The buildings fall into the background, nothing more than the scenic backdrop for your love story, for your catching up and calming down.

Your dorm becomes a cozy haven for endless conversation. Spontaneous chest games and first-hand accounts of last week’s race keep you smiling, and his never ending genuine interest in your life here makes you fall head over heels over and over again, every word that leaves his mouth making you feel particularly cherished, like the luckiest person around.

Dusk turns to dark and the two of you sit together at the dorm window, watching the same stars you’re always looking at. The same moon that serves as a reminder the world is never too big, the distance is never too much. It doesn’t matter where the two of you are, it’s always the same moon and stars in the sky. It’s a silent kind of love, careful like an early morning, beloved like a matching cup of coffee.

It’s a short visit. Too short, always too short, but it ends with promises of more, of this weekend and that.

You should be sad when he leaves, maybe, but you aren’t. You aren’t. You’re just full of love, and so, so happy to spend even a few hours with him.

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slvt4lanadelrey · 1 year

Text

The Pretty Firefighter | Tara Carpenter

Part one | The Pretty firefighter

Part two | Looking for the pretty firefighter

Warnings: Hot Sam, Tara being a little Teddy bear, kissing, suggesting scenes, slight smut

Tara (5:47pm): My dearest Y/N, will you do me the greatest honour of attending a date with mowh?

You (6:23pm): mowh?

Tara (6:24pm): That date is no longer feasible for you, not after leaving me on delivered for 40 minutes.

You (6:26pm): awwh, please? Who'll invite me on a date excessively all throughout the week, Or! Who would interpret my English lit mock exam to ask me if I was free this Friday?

Tara (6:27pm) are you though?

You smiled down at your screen, your body squished in-between Travis- your friend- and Anika. The two side eyed you, giggling at how your face lit up each time your phone would ding.

Within moments of you sending your last text, expressing and reminding the brunette girl- Tara Carpenter- of how she 'accidentally' on purpose distracted your week with her persisting request. It was cute, endearing even. She wanted something so desperately, she wanted you so desperately.

The second Tara read your message her caller ID flashed on your screen, alerting the group near you. Your fingers acted swiftly, pressing -Accept- before pushing off the couch, whispering to your friends you'd be back.

"I told you that was an accident. I'm so sorry, Y/N. If I knew you was in a mock exam I wouldn't have rang you." Tara breathed heavy through the phone, a slightly ruffling sound in the background. You rolled your eyes, smiling into the open air, walking around the greenery of your schools grounds.

"Its fine, Tara." You was yet to accept her invitation of a date, something she blamed on herself. In all honesly, you was just so swamped with school, and you didn't want her to give up so easily. She was so cute when she whined, all grumpy throughout the day because she wasn't allowed something.

"So...that date?" Of course, the famous date was always on Tara's mind, that was the simple reason why she wasn't revising even though she had a media's test coming up.

You laughed softly, something Tara found herself revelling in. She smiled happily, muttering fake distressed excuse me's as she paced down the halls.

"Tara-" you was cut off within seconds of expressing your sorrow; yet again you was stuck in boring revision lessons, wanting nothing more than to skip to spend time with your knight in...pirate clothing.

"Y/N, my dear.-" Tara had a habit of using mocking pet-names; if only you didnt tell her you wanted a hopless romantic partner.

"20 minutes, just 1200 seconds of your precious time. You and me, my apartment makes three?" She compromised, teasing you with her smile. You bit your lip, nibbling the flesh into your mouth in thought; Tara Carpenter? Or knowing you'd pass your exam?

"No funny business?" You asked, smiling deeper when she stuttered with her speech.

"If we just so happen to kiss, then that's just a win." Tara shouted down the speaker, hanging up before you'd saying something witty in return.

You groaned at her statement, returning back to your friends; who teased you ferociously within moments of your return.

In Tara's words she sent an adequate amount of messages, reminding you that you was expected at her hours at 7pm. In your eyes, she spammed you religiously all throughout six o'clock, and only stopped the moment your fist collided into her wooden front door.

The second the door was pulled open, standing taller than you; almost stalking over your frame was Samantha Carpenter, the mother gothel to Tara's Repunzel. She glared uncomfortably at you, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Can I help you?" She all but snarled, huffing out her chest, to state dominance? You smiled sweet at her, not letting her scary stature alter your mood.

You held out your hand, shuffling forward so she would take it. Her eyes scrunched, knitting into a confused face. She cupped your hand, shaking it solemnly.

"Good Evening, Ms Carpenter. Tara invited me over, did she tell you?" Her face drained, her shoulders releasing the tight knot she forced apon them. Her face released of stress, pulling into a smile.

"Your Y/N?-" when she was met with a nod, a little chuckle leaving your lip, smiling like a child, the older girl sighed heavily

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Tara's going to rip my head off, please come in" she opened her door even further, letting you into her home. Sam was notoriously known around the campus as Tara's scary older sister, so when you had to face the monster yourself you was shocked; she was just some protective sister who doesn't trust easy.

You passed her in the hall, stopping in your track when you noticed the living room was drawn into a quite the romantic setting: flowers bunched on the table, Dehlias. A few packets of different brands of candy, no chocolate in sight. A film the both of you shared an interest in paused on the screen, blankets and pillows laid sprawl on the floor. Everything was perfect, but Tara was no where to be found.

Sam slid beside you, her smile stiff. "She likes you. Please don't break her heart, or you know, ill have to break your nose and spine." She muttered, smiling when you stared at her with a less than impressed expression.

"What if I'd like that?" Tara rushed into the room, slamming down her backpack, breathing heavy.

"Are you flirting with my sister?" Tara breathed out, pulling out a dozen of roses. Your heart fluttered, face turning into a pink frenzy when she offered you the the bunch.

"I had them on order." She shrugged, trying her best to avoid the blush that was plaguing her cheeks. She ducked into her shoulder, brushing past you and walking into the open kitchen.

"She wasn't." Sam stated, sliding into her coat, zipping it before picking up her keys.

"I'm trusting you, Tara. I'll be going." Sam left with a small smile, letting the door lock behind her.

"Finally." Tara sighed out, plopping herself onto the floor, the mass amount of blankets suffercating her. She smiled up at you, offering her hand.

You blushed for the millionth time this night, landing down beside her. She flushed immediately, shuffling even further into your person space; something you'd grant, but only for her.

"Do you wanna watch this film?" She asked, clicking onto the movie she already had displayed on the screen. The name of the movie splashed on the screen, making you chuckle at the meaningful choice.

"Moana?"

She laughed, howling into her open palm with laughter. She rocked back and forth, snorting when she covered her face with her hand. You looked at her in absolute enchant, you was captivated by her in every way.

She was flawless beautiful, her nose painted in freckles her cheeks hollow with dimples, her big baby brown eyes purring into yours. She was charming, charismatic, she always had something witty to say which only added to her alluring self. You wanted her in every way possible, it was puzzling to think that all of this started because of your drunk friends hornyness, but you wouldn't change anything about your situation with Tara.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She questioned, her face still pink with blush; flushed at the way you called out her sentimental self.

"Your beautiful." She stopped, her face scrunching into a massive smile, almost taking up all her face. You told yourself, time and time again; don't fall for someone, especially so fast. But she was so undeniably perfect, so herself that nothing would have stopped you from leaning forward.

Your lips grazed hers at first, teasing the waters with a simple peck. Her perfume engulfed your scenes, the vanilla moisturiser trapping you. Your hand lifted to her cheek, cupping it softly before pulling the girl further into you; your lips acting like a wildfire, itching ever desire the brunette rawred out of you.

She acted quicker, pushing you down more than happy to indulge in whatever you was offering. Her lips planted on yours, hands tugging at your shirt.

Her lips were feverish, tongue grazing your bottom lip. You groaned, pulling away, to her great dismay.

"Slow down there, pirate." She whined at your request, bruising your neck with her needy lips. You giggled at the feeling of her lips all over you: your neck, your cheek, the tip of your nose, and forehead.

"I remember you told me you'd make me scream louder than a siren." She husked into your ear, breathing lightly into your neck; teeth grazing your ear, kissing it with a satisfied hum.

You groaned in return, back arching before your hands tugged her down; making sure her body colliding with the floor with a a loud thud.

"I told myself I wouldn't be this easy. But since your being such a gentleman, and that I have something to prove...we can watch the movie later." You promised, placing a small kiss on her lips before you sank down her body further, taking the reminding of her clothes with you.

#jenna ortega #lgbt #tara carpenter #jennaortega #wlw #scream #vada cavell #lorraine day #Wednesday addams #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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wooahaes · 1 year

Text

i just want to give you everything

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: pouty boyfriend gyu. food mentions. terms of endearment (honey, my love) used.

daisy’s notes: pouty gyu is my specialty tbh

Mingyu was quite literally on his knees, pouting at you while you laughed. “It’s not funny! It’s a big deal!”

“I told you that it’s fine!”

“It isn’t!”

The two of you had been going back and forth like this for maybe ten minutes now. The moment that you came home and crashed on the couch, Mingyu was there in front of you, going quite dramatic compared to how he normally was. He’d pouted, and gotten down on his knees in front of you, already apologizing for something you hadn’t even. It had, admittedly, thrown you for a loop when he finally admitted what the big deal was: he, ultimately, forgot your birthday at first.

Not that it bothered you. With the late night that he had, he finally came home to you late last night and pretty much collapsed into bed. He’d woken you up when he came in, and exchanged a sleepy kiss as he settled into your arms, body as heavy as bricks with fatigue. It’d come to you as a surprise when he woke up this morning when you were leaving, long enough to steal a kiss from you and mention he made you lunch when he came home last night. No ‘happy birthday’ in any form, but you had chalked it up to the fact that he was barely conscious when you were physically there with him. He’d texted you hours later with a long, sappy message about how much he loved you and that he was going to make you your favorite meal tonight.

You had insisted that his forgetting was fine. Mingyu, however, heavily disagreed.

“I’m supposed to be your boyfriend,” he pouted, cheek pressing against your thigh. “It’s my duty to be the first one to tell you happy birthday.”

You had quelled your laughs, despite the way his pout (like a kicked puppy) almost brought them back up. “My parents would disagree.”

“One of the first!” He said, lifting his head to frown at you again. He sighed, “Why didn’t you say anything this morning?”

You reached out, taking his face into your hands. “Gyu. You were barely awake. I really, really don’t care--”

“I saw Cheol at the store when I went grocery shopping,” he huffed, “and he gave me this smug look! He asked if I had ‘plans with the birthday girl’ and then made fun of me when I had to admit that I forgot and that was why I was getting groceries...”

“Oh, Gyu...”

He sighed again, “Wonwoo told me he was the first to text you this morning... I didn’t even do that until after he said something.”

“Mingyu,” you squished his cheeks a little, just to get his attention back on you, “I mean it. You worked late, and you work long hours.”

“I didn’t even put a note in your lunch,” he pouted. “How are you supposed to brag about me like you usually do if I don’t even do that?”

It earned another laugh from you, so full of love, followed by a quick kiss against his lips. “Lunch was delicious and I always get to brag about you during our break. It annoys Seungkwan a little, y’know.”

“I should have put a note,” he huffed, “I could have made them more jealous. I should have--”

You frowned again. “Mingyu... I mean it. It doesn’t bother me at all. I know you’re upset because you love me, but we’re busy people and you were exhausted when you came home this morning.” You ran a hand through his hair soothingly, letting out a sigh. “If it really bothers you so much, then you can make it up to me later. But... I can smell the delicious dinner my husband material boyfriend made for me,” you cupped his cheek with a giggle, “and I’m pretty sure it’s getting cold now...”

Mingyu sighed, slowly rising up to his feet and staying before you. He offered his hands out to you, and, with ease, tugged you so you were standing in front of him. Yet he didn’t move right away, instead choosing to linger there with you for a moment longer. “I mean it,” he said, “I’m sorry I forgot. I love you,” he leaned in, lips capturing your own for a short moment. When he pulled away, he found himself smiling at the pretty way the lights seemed to reflect in your eyes. Or maybe it was you glowing with love for him as you always did. “Happy birthday, my love,” he cupped your face, pressing one final kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll make it up to you after dinner.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @cinnamoroxie

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagine #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagine #mingyu x you #wooahaes.23

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blooming-violets · 1 year

Note

Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card - Dragging themselves along the ground

Bring Your Kids to Work Day

[tasm!peter x fem!reader]

TW: effects of fire and smoke inhalation, descriptions of a dead body, injury of a child, it's a fic about being trapped in a burning building with a child so you'll be reading grim descriptions of that

A/N: I started this bingo card almost exactly one year ago and I've only finished five fics from it since. Slow and steady, baby!

Bring Your Kids To Work Day. Of course, it would happen today, of all days.

Your office building was nothing special. Four stories and a basement. It paled in comparison to the surrounding towering skyscrapers. The newspaper company you worked for was located on the top floor. A local, independent newspaper that tried to focus on uncovering the truths the Daily Bugle would fabricate. Your company was barely staying afloat as it were. People enjoyed the gossip more than the truth. The struggling business thought today would be a wonderful time to allow their children to come and witness what their parents did each day. There were only about twenty employees total and, over half of you didn’t have children, so there weren’t that many kids in attendance. It was adorable at first. You got to meet your coworkers' kids and even got to snuggle with a five month old. You thought about texting Peter that you were coming down with a terrible case of baby fever but chose to wait until you saw him in person to spring the news on him.

It was supposed to be a good day.

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey,” your desk mate, Jenny, tapped you on the shoulder. She had her two twins in tow, Ollie and Ellie, the cutest set of four year olds you think you’d ever witnessed. “Would you mind watching these two while I run down to my car? I left my purse there. I’m parked in the garage just across the street. I shouldn’t be too long. It will take me ten times longer to drag them along with me.”

You beamed, more than happy to oblige and help fuel your growing need for your own kids, “I would love to!” You turned your attention to the twins and gave them a wink. “I even have a secret stash of lollipops hidden in my desk. I was hoping to find someone to share them with.”

Both their eyes lit up at the prospect of the sugary treats.

Ellie squealed, “You can share with us! We’re good at sharing! Right, Ollie?” She elbowed her brother and he happily nodded in agreement.

Jenny clasped her hands together in thanks, “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be right back. You two be on your best behavior.” She ruffled the tops of their blonde heads before turning to hurry out of the office.

You pulled open your desk drawer to show them the pile of lollipops hidden in there. Your inherent sweet tooth was worth any potential cavities. The sugar helped you get through your days of uncertainty, never knowing if the paper would go under or not. You rolled your chair out of the way to let the kids grab what flavor they wanted.

Soon, the three of you stood around, lollipops sticking out of your mouths, while you waited for their mother to return.

“Did you guys have fun today?” You asked.

The twins both hopped into your chair, squished side by side, while you slowly spun them around.

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Mommy let us watch Moana on her phone.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer you were looking for but a room full of introverted writers and stacks of newspapers everywhere wasn’t going to be the most fun for a young child.

“I love Moana,” you sighed happily. “Maybe I’ll watch that when I go home tonight.”

“I like Maui,” Ellie replied. “He’s funny. Will your mommy let you watch it on her phone?”

You were starting to get the sense that Ellie was the dominant one of the twins. Ollie mostly grinned up at you, staying silent, with big, round eyes and cherry red staining his lips from the lollipop. He was adorable and you wanted nothing more than to eat him up. You really needed a baby of your own…

“I don’t live with my mom anymore,” you answered.

“You live alone?” She gasped, looking sad for your wellbeing, as if living alone was the worst thing her little mind could ever think of.

You laughed, “No. I live with my boyfriend.”

Ellie made a long “ooooo” sound, followed by a fit of giggles, “A boyfriend! Is he handsome? Is he a prince?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself, knowing Peter would get a kick out of this conversation, “Yes, I think he is very handsome and, no, he’s not a prince. Not in the royal sense, at least.”

“I think Aladdin is handsome. I’m going to marry him,” Ellie paused to listen to what Ollie was now whispering in her ear. A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ollie says he’s going to marry you when he grows up!”

They both burst into high pitched giggles.

“He thinks you’re pretty like Moana,” Ellie laughed.

“I would be honored to marry Ollie,” you smirked, growing fonder of these two the more time you spent with them. Jenny had tried to get you to babysit for them before. You think it might be time to accept that offer. Peter and you could play house for a night. “I think he’s as sweet as a lollipop.”

Ollie’s shoulders rose up to his ears as he shrunk into himself with a bashful smile, “I’m going to be Spider-Man when I turn 5. The real one. Not a pretend one.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and you had to lean forward to catch what he was saying.

“You mean I’ll get to marry Spider-Man?” You widen your eyes in feign shock. Peter would absolutely love this conversation. You knew he would be just as smitten as you. “That sounds like a dream come true.”

Ellie nudged his shoulder with hers, “He always says he loves Spider-Man because we saw him in real life one time. He swung above us when we were driving home from preschool. He waved at Ollie. It was so cool. We never saw a real live superhero before that. Mommy made us Spidey masks. I can tell her to make you one, too. Then we can all match.”

“That sounds amazing. I think Ollie would make a wonderful Spider-Man some day.”

“Are you guys talking about Spidey?” Harrison, the office college intern, strode up behind you with a coffee mug in hand. “He saved me one time. Some bad guys shoved me into an alley with guns to try and mug me. They were going to shoot me if I didn’t give them everything in my pockets.”

You shot him a death glare for talking about gun violence in front of the young children but he ignored you. He could tell he had them hooked with his story and was enjoying their attention. You rolled your eyes at the young man. You’d heard this tale about a hundred times before. He brought it up whenever he could. He finally had new and excited ears to listen to him.

“Were you scared?” Ollie asked, his eyes wide . “I never sawed a real gun before.”

“Yeah, I was so scared, but then something amazing happened.” Harrison knelt down to better hold their attention. “Spider-Man jumped down behind the bad guys. He was as silent as a cat. The bad guys didn’t even know he was there until he started talking.”

“What did he say?” Ellie whispered, leaning in closer to catch every word.

“He said, ‘Hey, assho- uh, I mean- hey, buttheads! You mind if I join in the fun?’ and then he started shooting his webs at them until they were all tangled up. He hung them off a street light like some human pinatas for the police to get. Then he came back with my wallet and phone in hand, tossed them over to me, patted me on the top of my head, and told me to enjoy my night.” Harrison ended his story with a satisfied sigh.

You had asked Peter about the validity of the interns story once. He claimed he couldn’t remember the exact insistence but that it sounded like something he would do. Then he started bragging about how shocked Harrison would be if he knew you were sleeping with the “world famous” Spider-Man. That was when you had shut him up with a kiss before his boasting became too much.

“I gotta go potty,” Ollie huffed, like it was such a shame to leave a conversation when they were discussing superheroes. You would have to get Peter to meet the kids some day in his suit. They would lose their minds. Actually, you should have him meet Harrison some time too, just to watch the young man fangirl.

“It’s down the hall,” You pointed him in the right direction. There was only a single bathroom on the floor that the entire office had to share.

Ollie jumped off the chair and made his way to the bathroom, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder at you.

“That’s the one!” You called to him. “You found it! Yell if you need any help.”

He smiled and disappeared inside.

“Did you get Spidey’s autograph?” Ellie asked Harison.

He shook his head, “Sorry, kiddo. Not that time. I was too shaken up. If I ever meet him again, I’ll make sure to snag one for ya.”

He tipped an invisible hat to the little girl and made his way back to his desk. Being the youngest in the office, he got stuck with the one directly next to the bathroom, in the spot no one else wanted. You watched him plop down into his rickety wooden chair and smile happily to himself. He was a good kid. Talented, with a lot of potential to be a future investigator and reporter.

You finished your lollipop and tossed the stick in the trash, “What else did you like doing while you were here besides watching Moana and talking about Spider-Man?”

Ellie shrugged, “Mommy let us color on some newspapers. I drew a cat farting out rainbows. We wanted to make a fort out of all the stacks of papers but she said it was too dangerous and might fall. She didn’t want us to get crushed. Can we look out the window to see if we can see her? I want to wave to her.”

“Sure. Come on,” You took her tiny hand and helped her hop down from the chair.

The best features of the old building were its large windows. They ran from the floor to the ceiling and had a beautiful arch at the top. They were the kind of windows you could happily stare out of for hours.

Ellie pressed her nose up against the pane, her breath fogging up the glass, “I don’t see her yet.”

You looked down, searching the sidewalks for Jenny, and shook your head, “Me either. I’m sure she’ll be back any moment. Keep an eye out for her.”

Your voice trailed off as something caught your attention. Two people were sprinting down the street, a look of sheer terror plastered on their face. Even from four floors up you could easily see how scared they were. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly sprung to life as you watched more people round the corner. All running. All terrified. You couldn’t hear the screams behind the thick glass but you could see the way their faces contorted.

They were screaming for their lives.

You felt a strange disconnect between the people on the ground and yourself. Like watching a movie inside of a dream. They felt like they were in a different reality from your own. Behind the crowd appeared a giant ball of moving fire. It took a few seconds for your brain to process what you were seeing. The closer it got, the more you realized it wasn’t just fire. It was a man encased in the flames. At first you thought maybe he was on fire but then you realized he was the fire. He was controlling it and bending it to his will. He was what the people were running from. He was the danger they feared.

He tossed fistfulls of balled up flames towards the running people and haphazardly shot them off into the windows of every building he passed. He was creating a flaming destruction in his wake. A villain who wanted to watch the city burn.

And your building was next in line.

Your hand immediately went to grab onto the back of Ellie’s shirt as your own reality finally caught up to crash with the people below. You dragged her down onto the floor just in time for the big window to explode into shards of flying glass and rain down over the tops of your heads as a ball of fire burst to life against the back wall. The wood paneling went up in flames in a matter of seconds. People were screaming as chaos broke out. They were grabbing their children and sprinting towards the nearest exit. Loose pieces of newspaper floated down around you, some igniting on fire mid flight, and sizzling to soot before they hit the ground. Glass fell from your hair to trickle down under your collar and rolled down your back as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Ellie was whimpering beside you, tears filling her eyes, and she reached a shaky hand out to hold onto yours. You gripped it tightly, noting that she had a small, bloody cut across her cheek from where the glass hit her.

“It’s okay,” you shouted to her. The wailing sounds of the fire alarm bursting to life deafened your words. You weren’t even sure Ellie could hear you but you were speaking more for yourself anyway. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We have to get up quickly and get out of here.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and you read her lips form the words, “You’re bleeding…” She pointed a fearful finger near your forehead.

You reached up and felt a large, jagged piece of glass sticking out from over your eyebrow. You gripped onto the shard and pulled it from your skin. A rush of warm blood waterfalled down over your cheek, blurring into your eyes. You didn’t feel any pain.

“We have to get up,” you shouted to her again.

Ellie grabbed onto your hand as you both scrambled to your feet.

An old, wooden building and a floor covered in newspapers were no match for the ravenous fire. It was rapidly engulfing everything it could devour. In the short amount of time you spent on the ground, half your office was gone. Between the blinding, red hot glow of the flames and the white flashing lights of the fire alarm, mixed with the deafening sounds, you were overwhelmed and disoriented.

“Stairs…” You mumbled to yourself, trying to focus your panicked thoughts. “We have to get to the stairs.”

Thick black smoke was already starting to fill the small space. Whatever limited vision you had seconds ago was quickly dissipating. You caught a glimpse of your boss ushering out the last few remaining employees out of the door. His arm motioned for you before a wall of smoke blocked him from view. At least you had the right direction.

You tried your best to duck down low as you dragged Ellie behind you, keeping a death grip on her tiny hand, as you forged towards the direction of the stairs. She kept planting her heels into the ground and tugging against you. She was screaming something that couldn’t be heard over the wailing alarm.

You yanked her by the arm up to your side and wrapped her in a tight embrace, “Stop fighting me! It’s okay! I’m going to get us out!”

“Ollie!” She cried. “We have to get Ollie!”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. She was right.

Ollie was still in the bathroom.

Your eyes scanned the room. You couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you. The smoke was starting to irritate your eyes. They burned and watered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

You scooped Ellie up into your arms and sprinted as fast as you could towards the exit. Your thigh crashed into the corner of a flaming desk, sending your body jerking in the opposite direction, but you ignored the sharp pain and did your best to blindly correct your course. If you could just pass Ellie off to your boss then at least you wouldn’t have to worry about her safety while you tried to find Ollie.

You stumbled to the exit, nearly slamming into the wall, only to find your boss already gone. You tried to pull open the door but reeled back when you felt white hot, searing pain burn into your palm. You couldn't hold back the scream of shock that burst out of you. The metal handle was impossible to hold onto with your bare skin. Thinking fast, you tried to wrap the bottom of your shirt around the handle to pull open the door. The pain still burned through the thin cotton but you managed to open it just enough to stick your foot through. You kicked the door open the rest of the way and shoved Ellie into the stairwell.

“Go down the stairs and out the door!” You shouted at her. “I’ll be right back!”

The stairwell was pitch black apart from the flashing white light of the fire alarm. It made it difficult for your eyes to gain their bearings, making you feel off balance, like walking through a funhouse at a carnival. Ellie stood frozen in place. Her entire body was shaking with fear. Black soot was staining her skin. Her eyes were watering, either from crying or the smoke, as they illuminated with each flash of the light. Her pant leg was soaked through with urine pooling by her feet. At some point she had lost a shoe. You knew she was too petrified to move.

“Ellie, go!” You tried to give her a small shove, knowing how important timing was to get to safety, but she didn’t budge.

“Ollie’s scared!” She cried. “He’s scared. We have to get him. Don’t leave us! I want mommy. I want mommy. Where’s my mommy?”

There was no time to think. No time to argue with her. No time to convince her. You were afraid that if you left her there, she wouldn’t move, or get lost, or trapped. You knew children’s instincts in fires were often to hide instead of run. You didn’t trust this 4 year old to make it out on her own. She would get lost in the crowds below. Swept away in a sea of people. You couldn’t leave her. The risk was too high. She had to come with you.

You lunged for her hand, forcing the two of you down to your knees to army crawl under the smoke. It was getting harder to even see your two hands in front of your face. Sweat dripped down your back. Your lungs were starting to ache as they filled with toxic gas. Both you and Ellie kept coughing but you dragged her along beside you, refusing to let her out of your grasp. You knew if you let go, you wouldn’t be able to find her again.

The wooden floors were heating up. Fire raged above you. It was on the ceiling now. Eating everything in its path. You prayed that Ollie was still inside the bathroom and that he was unharmed. You couldn’t see, struggled to breath, and your body was reaching unhealthy temperatures.

Down the hall.

That’s all you had to get to. Down the hall and first door on the right.

A charred, wooden beam fell from the ceiling and landed directly against your right arm. The flames licked at your exposed skin as the wood splintered and cracked. You flinched away from the pain, nearly crawling on top of Ellie to get away from the heat. Fire was on nearly every side of you now. The left, the right, and above all glowed orange in the darkness. Orange every way you looked. It seared your retinas until all you could see was the blinding light. The heat was forcing you down as low as your body could manage, pressed tightly against the floor.

You had no idea where in the office you were now. You didn’t know if you had traveled one foot or twenty. You just kept inching forward. You knew if you reached the back wall, you would have gone too far.

This was a mistake. You should have gotten Ellie out first. You were leading her straight to her death. The flames would eat you both alive.

The noise all faded into a constant loud roaring in your ears until it dulled into nothing like your ears decided to stop working. Instead, you felt the rumbling noise in your chest. Your brain was vibrating in your skull. Smoke blocked out the orange the further you crawled into the fire. It snuffed out everything in its wake. All you could see was black and all you could hear was your own blood pounding in your ears. It was like being in a terrible nightmare. If you closed your eyes, maybe you would wake up somewhere else. You felt like you were floating. Drifting. It was getting hard to breathe. You’d forgotten what fresh air felt like. Ellie was getting slower, too. You were having to drag her more. She was smaller than you. She would die first, you thought.

A canary in the coal mine.

You had to get to Ollie. And then what? You could hardly drag Ellie this far. There was no way you would be able to pull along two terrified children all the way back to the exit. There was no guarantee it would even still be accessible. This side of the building had no fire escapes. You’d get to the bathroom and then you’d be stuck. The three of you would be trapped inside. The fire was spreading too fast. You weren’t able to outrun it.

Your hands bumped into something on the floor. The bump was enough to recenter your attention. You felt around with your free hand wondering if you had gone too far and hit the back wall. You fumbled around you with touch being your only working sense. This was no wall. It was something soft. Fleshy. Your hand found fingers. You traced up their arm and over their shoulder until you found a face. You dragged your body closer and tried to see through blurry, smoke filled eyes who it was. It was only when you were centimeters from their face, your noses touching, that you could make out any features.

Harrison was staring back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unblinking. His face still. You shook his shoulder but his eyes showed no signs of life. Half of his face was bright red and outlined in charred black from where the fire had devoured his flesh. It had eaten him nearly down the skull. There was no breath in his lungs. No life in his eyes. He was gone.

Dead.

He had just turned 20 last month.

Harrison’s desk was right next to the bathroom.

That was the only thought you allowed yourself to think. Your emotions had disappeared along with your hearing. Your mind was set on a single track.

Get to the bathroom.

That was it.

That was the goal.

You crawled over Harrison’s body. Your knees sunk into his chest, feeling the crack of his ribs underneath you, as you pushed your weight off him to propel yourself forward. Ellie was like a dead weight, a ball and chain, attached to your arm that you had to drag along with you. Her head was lolling limply back and forth as you pulled her over the body after you. She wasn’t moving on her own anymore. Maybe she was dead, too. Maybe you were dragging the corpse of a child around. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just had to get the two of you to the bathroom. Dead or alive.

You used your hand to feel along the wall for the bathroom door. The old wallpaper bubbled under your skin. A part of your brain was telling you that what you were touching was extremely hot and burning your flesh but, since you no longer felt anything, you didn’t stop until your fingers brushed over a hinge.

You scrambled around for the handle, gripping it tightly, and yanked open the door. Heavy black smoke immediately flooded into the tiny room. You quickly pulled Ellie and you onto the tiled floor and slammed the door closed with your foot. You lay staring up at the white ceiling being clouded with rising smoke. Your lungs sucked in the cleaner air. The fire hadn’t touched this room yet. Besides the smoke that you let in when you opened the door, it was relatively untouched.

An oasis amongst the desert sands.

You slowly let your eyes wander into the corner where Ollie sat huddled. His legs were pulled tight against his chest and his arms were clinging onto them. He stared at you with wide eyes, glancing tearfully between your soot covered face and his motionless sister.

A surprised laugh fell from your lips which quickly turned into another coughing fit. You rolled onto your side, hacking up black saliva over the white floor.

“You’re alive,” you croaked out to the scared little boy.

You forced yourself to sit up. Wads of wet paper towels were lined up on the ground. You realized Ollie had stuffed them under the door to stop the smoke. Smart kid. They have been pushed to the side when you opened the door. You quickly bent down to shove them back into the cracks, keeping the smoke at bay, and then turned to find Ellie.

She looked so small face down on the floor. Her pink t-shirt and blonde hair were now completely black. You rolled her onto her back in a daze. It was hard to think. Hard to move. You felt like your limbs were full of wet cement. You stumbled onto your feet, your head spinning with a pounding headache, and grabbed some brown paper towels from the dispenser. You tried to run them under the sink but the faucet wasn’t working so you dunked them into the toilet water instead. Then you turned to Ellie and began wiping the soot from her mouth and her blocked nostrils. Her chest rose with short, labored breaths. Her eyes were caked close from the greasy smoke residue so you tried your best to wipe them clean too. She was still alive but she wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t get out of here. There was no way you’d be able to carry her body back through those horrors with Ollie in tow. You were too weak. Too sick. The three of you were trapped. This would be your fiery coffin.

“Spider-Man will save us.”

Ollie’s tiny whisper hardly reached your broken ears. You gazed through half closed lids over your shoulder to look at the boy. You were starting to forget who he was or what his name was. His words felt foreign to you. All your thoughts were moving at a sluggish pace.

Spider-Man.

Save us.

Yes…yes…Peter.

You fumbled to grab your phone out of your pocket. Of course, Peter would save you. There was still hope.

The black grime coating your fingers wouldn’t let you use the touch screen and you let out a frustrated cry.

“Siri!” You whined, the desperation heavy in your tone. “Call Peter Parker.”

“Calling Peter Parker,” her pleasant, robotic tones echoed back to you. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare you were currently living through.

You sunk against the wall, slumping into yourself, feeling like the world was spinning. Peter would know about the man with the fire. He would know he was on your street. He would know it was your building. He would have been searching for you right now. You’d just have to stay awake long enough for him to find you.

It rang twice before his panicked voice answered, “Where are you? Tell me you're safe.” He sounded breathless and far away to you, like listening to an echo bouncing off an underpass. Your body was starting to shut down.

“Bathroom. Trapped.” It was all you could say before what little vision you had left started to fade. You didn't have much time left. The oxygen in the room was running out.

A small hand wrapped over your wrist as the boy snuggled up to your side.

Ollie. His name was Ollie.

Ollie and Ellie. The cutest set of twins you had ever seen.

It was supposed to be a good day.

“Spider-Man is on the phone,” you mumbled to the frightened child. “Talk to him. He’ll keep…keep…keep you safe…he’ll find you…”

Ollie picked up the phone. He was speaking into it but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You were floating away to wherever Ellie’s mind was currently being held. Someplace away from here. Away from the flames. Someplace without smoke. Somewhere you could breathe again.

You were going to close your eyes. Just for a minute…one, little, short minute…

A crashing rumble of bricks being smashed startled you back to life. You tried to take in what was happening but your brain was stuck in a haze. One of your hands was clutched onto the front of Ellie’s shirt and the other was holding onto Ollie. Someone else was in the room with you. It was smokier than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Time had passed, that much you knew, though you were unsure how much. Something was breaking a wall. Bricks were flying. It was filling the room with white smoke to compete with the black and blocking out whatever sunlight was attempting to push through the holes being created.

“It’s okay,” Ollie spoke into your ear as he curled up next to your side, noticing that you were awake again. “Spider-Man is here. He’s saving us just like you said.”

Peter.

Your sweet, beautiful Peter. You had no idea when he got here or how but he was here and he was breaking apart the side of the building with his bare hands so they could escape.

You tried to focus your attention on Ellie. Her eyes were open now and she was curled onto her side. She was weak but somehow she was still alive.

The masked face of Spider-Man appeared in your line of sight. His hands were on either side of your cheeks as he cradled your face in his palms.

“Stay with me. Don’t you drift off again. I’m getting you out of here.”

There was a steadfast determination in his voice. Many months ago he once told you that he refused to ever let you die. You had laughed at him then, telling him that was impossible, not even Peter Parker could control death. He had told you it didn’t matter. He would fight Death himself with nothing but his two fists if it meant getting to hold onto you for another day.

He had meant it then and he was proving it now.

“Get the kids first,” you croaked. “Get Ellie to an ambulance.”

“I can hold all of you at the same time!” He bent down to scoop Ellie into his arms. She offered no resistance but was too weak to hold onto him herself. Her head flopped against his shoulder and her eyes closed. Ollie leapt up into his other arm and clung tightly around his neck.

He couldn’t hold all of you and manage his webs at the same time. He was lying to himself and to you.

“Can you get on my back?” He tried to fight the reality he was being faced with. He didn’t want to leave you behind but you both knew the children needed to be evacuated first. As stubborn as he was, not even Peter would choose you over them. Children came first. Always. That was the life and sacrifice of a hero.

“Peter,” you ordered, forcing what little energy you had into your words. “Take the kids. Hurry. You’re wasting time.”

The fire was at the door. You could feel its heat on your back as you leaned against the wall. The smoke was pushing through the cracks. The wet paper towels had long since failed their duty at keeping it at bay. Time was slipping through your fingers.

“I’ll be right back!” He shouted. “Stay alive or I’m going to kill you.”

Then he was gone.

The smoke was becoming too much. The heat was getting too strong. It forced you to drag yourself across the floor towards the hole in the wall. You let your head hang outside, gulping at the fresh air as the black smoke rose above you. The smell of singed, burning hair hit your nose. You could see the ends sizzling orange from your peripheral vision. You were starting to feel pain again as some of your senses slowly returned. You looked down at the pavement four stories below you. It was getting too hot to bear. Your skin was screaming. A part of you wanted to keep dragging your body into the fresh air even if it meant you’d fall. For that one second of falling, you’d be free from the oppressive heat. Behind you meant death. In front of you meant death.

All that you had left was Peter.

At least the kids were out. If you were able to accomplish anything today, it was that.

Even if Peter did most of the work. You were able to start what he could finish.

Your lids felt heavy. Your breath was weezing. Your chest ached and your right fist was clenched close from the pain. The skin on your palm was black and peeling from where you had gripped onto the burning door handle. You wanted it all to be over.

The pavement never looked so enticing.

It was supposed to be a good day.

You dragged yourself further out the hole so your entire chest was now hanging over the edge. Your body was craving the clean air. It desperately wanted to escape the heat. You pulled yourself a little further. Inch by inch. Flirting with the idea of death.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

The scruff of your shirt was balled into a fist as you were lifted upright into the safety of Peter’s arms. You were swinging through the air. The wind in your face never felt so delicious as it slid down your shriveled lungs. He was holding you tightly to his chest and using one arm to swing you away from the burning building.

Tears sprung into your irritated, red eyes.

You were out. Free from the fire. Free from the smoke. Alive.

“I got you, baby,” he chirped against your ear. “I got you. I’m not letting you go anywhere I can’t follow.”

He landed softly on a rooftop a few blocks from the chaos. There were people who still needed his help. A villain to be fought. Damage control be done.

But he didn’t care about any of that.

Peter placed you delicately onto your bottom on the roof and he knelt down in front of you, tugging off his mask to get a proper look.

“I’m going to bring you straight to the hospital but I need to see you first,” he whispered. “I just need to look at you…make sure you’re still here with me.”

He slipped his hands free from his gloves to push back your singed hair from your face. He grabbed his mask to carefully wipe away some of the soot from your eyes.

“You look like you clawed your way straight outta hell,” he smiled down at you but his eyes held his real feelings of worry behind them. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. You both knew how close to losing you he had come today.

You cracked a half hearted smile of your own, “I think I did.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and a constant, high pitched shrieking sound kept ringing in your head.

“You’re okay,” he asked.

You weren’t sure if it was meant as a question for you to answer or a statement he was speaking to help ease his anxious heart.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “I’m alive, at least.”

The further away you got from the fire, the more pain you started to feel. It wasn’t just your hand that was hurting now, the pain was shooting all the way down your back, and your right arm felt stiff and unable to move.

“I told you I wouldn’t ever let you die. That’s not allowed. We’re going to die together, hand in hand, snuggled up in bed like The Notebook.” Peter leaned his forehead against your own and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lost in the moment of softness, until the thought of Ellie and Ollie crashed to the surface. You gasped and jerked away, horror etched onto your face. “The twins!”

He tugged you to him, kissing your temple, “They’re safe. I send them off in an ambulance. I think the little boy will be fine. The girl looked like she was suffering from serious smoke inhalation. I had to give her CPR when I showed up. She wasn’t breathing. I got her to wake up. She’ll be seen right away. Speaking of which-” He stood back up, pulling his gloves and mask back on. “The hospital is exactly where we need to get you.”

Peter scooped you back into his arms and hopped onto the ledge of the roof, “You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

#the amazing spiderman #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter #andrew garfield #spiderman x reader #tasm fic #peter parker fic #tasm writing bingo #bring your kids to work day #blooming violets #blooming violets fic

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mikkomacko · 1 month

Note

After reading the recent chapter of Him & I, the image of teen Nico and the others trying to adjust to life in NJ has me in a chokehold lol

May I request for any shenanigans our boys may have gotten into during their first few months in the states? 👀

Stop I love this request! Just a bunch of silly teen boys in a new country together haha

Thanks so much requesting! Let me know if you want some more funny moments between the guys

~~~~

“Nico, I love you man but when am I gonna get my own bed?”

Timo is sprawled out across the queen size bed, McDonald’s fries and a burger resting in his lap. It’s been his obsession food for the last month they’ve been in Jersey and Nico is patently waiting for the day it all makes him sick.

“I’m trying Timo,” he huffs, looking up from the hoard of emails he’s been sifting through. His first order of business when he got to Jersey was finding something in the area to invest in. That something was a beloved bar in the area that had been shut down a few years ago and now he’s trying to build it all back up. “A few more weeks and I’ll look for somewhere new, ok?”

The apartment is nice, not a penthouse but large and luxurious. Enough to keep them all comfortable until he can afford an equally nice place for everyone. Technically leased under Nico’s name, it’s his permanent home now. And the home of the friends he brought with him. Three bedrooms in all, but Jesper and Jonas brought their girls with them, and Nico felt it was best they got rooms for themselves. Leaving him and Timo to double-up unless someone wanted the couch.

“Not that I don’t like the bonding,” Timo laughs, shoveling fries into his mouth. “I just didn’t realize how much of a cuddler you are.”

“Shut up!” Nico grumbles, cheeks heating up. He’s not that much of a cuddler, it just happens. It doesn’t help that Timo is such a bed hog either. What else is he supposed to do when his friend is rolling onto his side of the bed?

Timo snickers, hitting play on the next episode of Friends. Nico goes back to work, approving orders and installs for the bar so that it’ll be ready to open by the end of the month. Eventually the loud, smacking footfall of Jonas float in and the elder Swiss boy’s head is poking into the master bedroom.

“What are you watching?” He ask innocently, and Timo pats the bed next to him. That’s all the invitation Jonas needs before he’s crashing into the mattress, settling against the headboard and stealing some chicken nuggets from Timo.

“Ladies at work tonight?” Timo asks him, and he nods. Nola and Nicole had both gotten work together at a fancy clothing store a few streets down. The pay isn’t great, but they’re able to save up and support themselves with Nico taking care of housing and food for everyone. And once the bar is up and running, him and the boys will have more work to do.

Jonas pulls out his phone, sending a text that’s barely buzzed in the group chat before Jesper is running into the room as well. He shoves Nico’s beanie down over his eyes, leaping onto the bed with the other boys.

Nico yanks the hat off, tossing it towards the closet and refocusing. He doesn’t even get five minutes of work done before Jesper is calling for him.

“What?”

“Come on boss,” he teases “working too hard. Join us in bed.”

Nico rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You’re not my type.”

“Which one of us?”

“All of you.” Nico deadpans, looking up over his screen to find them all staring at him with puppy dog eyes.

“You love friends, come watch.” Jonas tells him. “I’ll let you sit next to Timo so you can snuggle?”

They all bust out laughing and it’s enough to get Nico to close his laptop. Rising from the desk, he pads over to the bed and knees his way up between Jonas and Timo.

He settles into the pillows, crossing his arms over his chest. Timo and Jonas are warm on either side of him, everyone’s biceps pressed tight against each other as they squish together.

Sometimes when Nico’s here, just him and his friends from home without thinking of everything he has to do, everything that comes with being the boss, he remembers his age. Still freshly 18 with too much money in his bank account and a responsibility to take care of the five other people he’s drug into this with him.

It makes him feel small. In a safe way though, because he’s got the people that believe in him and have his back. He’s got the Devs with him.

Maybe Jesper is right, maybe he is working too hard to make this work because he wakes up in the morning to a photo of him sleeping on Timo’s shoulder, a an arm and leg thrown over his best friends body.

#him and i #mob boss Nico blurb #mob boss Nico hischier #timo meier #jonas siegenthaler #jesper bratt #him and I blurb #requested

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beauleifu · 1 year

Note

Hello! Can you write a oneshot or a headcanon (platonic, ofc) about Macaque with a reserved but also very outgoing child? (like those kids that are calm and reserved but if you mention something they really like they just go off and start rambling all happy and excited)

I had this idea in my head for a little while, I think it'd be really funny and wholesome if he just appeared at Pigsy's Noodles w/ his child and everyone's like "wh- YOU'RE A DAD??? WHEN??? HOW????" and he just watches with that Tired Parent Look™ as his kid stares directly at MK and goes "YOU'RE THAT MONKIE GUY ON THE TV!!!"

Sorry for any errors! English is not my first language, I apologize for the long text aswell, I'm just an absolute sap for the "tired but loving dad" trope also you can totally delete my ask or skip it if you don't want to write it!! Thank you either way, your writing is wonderful :) !

All right! *cracks fingers, snaps neck- whoops-*

You got it anon! Sorry for not answering this ask sooner, I realized headcanons are easier to write than an actual oneshot considering the limited time I have to write nowadays. But I hope you enjoy, and thanks for the ask! <333

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MACAQUE X CHILD!READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Long ago, a wise old monkey had taken you under his wing, to train you and teach you the ways- okay, let's save the theatrics for later, that's Macaque's thing. Your father figure. Honestly, he's growing on you, and it's starting to show now that people are pointing it out.

TW: None!

HEADCANNONS

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Macaque doesn't normally take you somewhere where conflict is bound to arise. He'd prefer someplace more peaceful, like a park/museum/theater. Unless, of course, he's in the mood for adventure and will literally take you skydiving without a permit.

Totally the irresponsible dad. He's protective as FUCK, let's make that clear, but in the end he trusts you to take care of yourself

perhaps a bit too much, and even you think that

He'll encourage you to pet that snake

He'll give you the thumbs up if you wanted to climb to the top of the weather tower during a thunderstorm

Like "Go get 'em, (Y/N)! Make your father proud!"

With such a dramatic character when it comes to encouraging you, Macaque will become insanely tired. He'll be snoring on the couch and won't wake up even if you stacked all the furniture in the house on his back

Speaking of the house, he and you live far away from any danger

This guy didn't know jack shit about being a dad at first (you kind of hat to teach him, oh how the turns have tabled) But once he understood the basics, he took the reins, eager to impress you and earn your respect. Macaque isn't usually a sucker for developing any relationship with Earthly figures, but you were the only exception. He'd lay awake at night thinking if he's making the right choice, then slapping himself for even considering abandoning you. You are too precious.

Which is why he's totally, utterly wrapped around your little finger

So when you ask to get take-out at Pigsy's Noodles, it doesn't take much effort to sway his stoic resolve

"Dad. Pops. Papa. Father of mine," you say, grabbing his face, looking a lot older than you actually are. "Please!"

Since Macaque can't turn his face to the side (squished as it is), he sighs dramatically and closes his eyes. You catch the faint, irritated twitch of his tail, but that's about the only hint of Fed-Up Parent you can detect.

"(Y/N), Megapolis is miles away."

"You have shadow magic!"

"You can't just abuse my powers, especially now that you've decided to abuse yours," he grunts, albeit grinning at you. He' loosing.

Triumph fills your chest. "I can handle it! Uncle Pigsy would love to see me!"

"Uncle!?" Macaque splutters, finally escaping your grip. Shocked eyes blink down at you. "Sweetheart, you haven't even met Pigsy, you've only seen him from afar."

You blink up, flaunting those devil-may-care puppy eyes.

Oh, he hates it when you do that.

"Puh-lease! I'll do anything! i'll scratch your back! Do my chores before games! I-I'll stay out of your secret stash of peaches!" You gasp, flopping down on the soft carpet lining the floor. You consider the intricate pattern for a moment, then mutter under your breath; "Even though you said you hate those. . . ."

Macaque fixes you with a stern look. "You know about that, huh?"

"Mayyybe."

Like I said, not that much effort. The guy may be invulnerable to harm at best, but his immortality falls short under your tactics. Persuasive skills that he taught you to use.

Sucks how plans backfire, huh?

When you two do get to the shop, however, Macaque goes into full parent-mode

He doesn't care if you think it's uncool, you're holding his hand and that's that. He'd get you one of those child harnesses but thank the stars you'd convinced him you're worth more than such a humiliating child-control device.

So in you go, holding hands, Macaque glaring at anyone who spares you a curious glance.

When Macaque sees who's at the counter, he almost does a 180 out of there

It's MK.

Of all people.

He hasn't seen the two of you yet, though. You feel Macaque's paw tighten over your small, nimble fingers, and you can't help but squeeze back in return, asking a silent question.

It's times like these where you don't know what to do. You're still a child, even if this was your idea.

But then you spot who's at the counter

and At the same time, Pigsy comes 'round the corner with a giant tray of noodles- fit for the exact number of people surrounding the Monkie Kid. Suddenly, Macaque realizes who all is there.

This guy

Parent-Panic-Pro

The literal Monkey King is the first to turn head, eyes landing on Macaque first. You can tell instantly his fight-or-flight response just kicked in; shoulders tensing, teeth baring, eyes widening (oh yes, typical ex behavior- HAHA)

Then, all heads are turning.

And Monkey King's eyes land on you

Macaque steps in front of you, form tense and on high alert. "Heyyyy," he says, awkwardly.

The Monkey King tilts his head, perhaps confused as to why his old friend is protecting a little kid. Then he realizes. Poor guy connects the dots, lets out an unholy gasp of astonishment, and points and the both of you

"YOU. YOU- AND THEM- MACISTHATYOURKID-"

Pandemonium.

At least, in the most gentle context. MK and his friends do a double take, the Monkey King is gaping and trying to figure out who could ever love Macaque to result in this- and your dad just completely gives up. He gives you this look, like 'see why I was against bringing you here'

And you know. And your eyes say sorry, that you'll make it up to him later

Typical silent father/child communicating

(you guys are really good at that, communicating through your eyes or expressions. it helps in crowds)

That is, until your eyes fall on MK and realize for the first time that he's actually there

And Macaque's face falls into an impossibly disappointed facade (really, he's happy you're socializing) as you let go of his hand and prance right up to MK, eyes literal stars.

Thank goodness for MK, for he's kind and patient enough to let you blabble and gush on about how cool he is and how you've stayed up to date on the latest chaos he's incited (poor dude looks a bit downcast at that)

Funny how you went to such a well-behaved, shy kid to an energetic hyper-fixated gremlin in two seconds

All the while, Pigsy is listening, Monkey King corners Macaque and quietly demands answers (the two of them talk in the background for awhile as you socialize)

Noodles are served

There's just so many people in Pigsy's Noodles that the owner himself couldn't keep track of who ordered what, so everyone just got the same thing- and lots of it

In the end, you're all sitting down at the table (everyone had worked together to gather as many spare tables/chairs as possible to sit together at one huge-ass table)

You insisted you sit with Mei and MK in order to interrogate them about their adventures

OF course, you mean well, and they know that. And Macaque never pulls you aside because he likes seeing you like this, it makes him happy knowing you're indulging in the things you love, and he deosn't have the heart to tell you it's almost time to go home.

So you stay there for awhile, chatting with Mk and his friends

You get to know Pigsy (he doesn't mind being called your uncle, said at this point he's practically everyone's uncle or dad)

But alas

You're bit a child

And towards the end of the night, aftter everyone is stuffed full of noodles, you're conked out in your chair, slumped and snoring softly, eyes fluttering from dreaming

Everyone glances at you, how fucking adorable you are

Macaque straightens, clears his throat, says it's time for him to leave

Sun Wukong stops him for a moment, just to say

"Keep them safe, Mac."

Of course, like the #1 Dad he is, Macaque snorts. "I think I know more about raising a kid than you do, Wukong. I'll . . . see you out there."

Then he picks you up, carefully, so you stay sleeping, and walks out

but not before turning around to thank everyone for dinner

For once, they offer smiles (some are weaker and less meaningful than others, but props for trying. Macaque is kinda responsible for a lot of pain in their lives, anyways)

You don't register any of it, too full of noodles and new information regarding your idols

Macaque knows he'll never hear the end of it

Perhaps that's a good thing, considering the fond smile on his face as he gently carries you home, lays you in bed, and pulls the covers over your snoring form. He eagerly awaits the morning to which you'll wake him up excitedly ranting about tonight, about how you want to do it again

And he's wrapped around your little finger, so if course he'll listen to you

this guy would move the world for you

414 notes · View notes

kissingmilfs · 9 months

Text

sleeping with the enemy | natasha romanoff

summary: part of the dream girl evil! au something had to be done. everyone was sick of the fighting. but maybe being trapped in a van with natasha wasn’t entirely the worst idea. prequel to 🫀

cw: hate fucking, degradation, name calling, sorta pet play, mentions of weed and alcohol, slight blood, consensual(ish) bullying

word count: 4.1k

a/n: my gf @pocolottie did the banner! it’ll be posted to ao3 too.

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you’re all squeezed in the back of Sam's dad’s company van. it’s a little silly pulling up to a college bonfire in a white van with a fishing company’s decal on the sides. our friend group is comprised of seven people originally. wanda invited some random boy from her chemistry lab. sam invited his sister because bucky gets really awkward around her and it’s funny seeing a drunk bucky trying to flirt with sarah.

it’s already hard enough sharing an opened, public space with natasha. even when you’re feet apart, there’s always something negative for natasha to spew at you. even if the girl is quiet, you can feel natasha throwing you disgusted looks. naturally it sucks having the girl sitting directly across from you with five other people squished around.

steve texted to warn about the tight squeeze in the van. the natural peace maker wanting to make sure everyone spends the ride without getting murdered. before they swung around to your dorm, you took two shots of some cheap tequila. you hung outside, smoking a joint, able to indulge since soccer season ended.

you needed all the help you could get. sometimes you tell yourself that you can handle natasha’s constant attacking and horrid attitude. but then natasha will glare at you and all your reservations are dropped. you saw the van bank the corner, ashed your joint and hopped into the back. natasha’s dorm is before yours, so naturally you were met with her face first.

the alcohol and the weed help maintain your calm composure. you say, “sup,” to everyone and climb into the van. once sam confirms you’re in safely and somewhat comfortably he drives off, heading to the clearing in the woods. your knees are pulled up to your chest, allowing your chin to rest on them. you’re listening to the lull of random conversations from everyone in the van. you even thought to yourself, “wow this is nice,” right before natasha opened her mouth.

natasha cannot resist truthfully. you make yourself an easy target for the girl. there’s always something for natasha to single out and make fun of. you dont even hide your disdain or contempt. she loves seeing a reaction come from you. something about seeing the muscles in your jaw tighten, or your eyebrows furrow with anger, continues the little game for natasha.

“it smells fucking rank in here.” natasha deadpans while staring directly at you.

you open your mouth then quickly close it. wanda leans over bucky and takes a whiff from you. both her and bucky exchange knowing glances and she giggles.

“its just weed, natasha. chill out.” bucky mumbles with a shrug, not wanting to spend another 20 minutes with both of them going at it.

natasha throws bucky a horrid stare and he retreats into himself like a scared puppy. wanda soothingly rubs his shoulder then glances over apologetically at you. you sigh, momentarily closing your eyes. the thought of entertaining natasha and her usual antics makes the tequila in your stomach churn.

“what? nothing to say, y/l/n? you must’ve really fried your brain with that shit.” natasha’s words are filled with disgust.

you open your eyes again, deadly staring at the girl across from you. “what do you want me to say, hm? i don’t owe you anything. you’re the only one with the fucking problem.”

natasha scrunches her face with one eyebrow raised. “oh? you don’t think the way you smell affects me? or anyone else in the van? maybe they’re all too coward to say anything.”

everyone in the van grumbles, muttering something about how they’re not cowards, or that they don’t care. it does not seem to phase natasha. she’s relentless and goes in for more.

“no wonder you’re such a pathetic athlete. matter of fact, i wonder how your coach would feel hearing what his star player gets up to during off season.”

“jesus…give me a fucking break. maybe you should try smoking some time. you’ll get that stick out of your ass. it’s probably making you constipated and that’s why you’re such a fucking bitch.” your hand curls into a fist against the fabric of your pants. you can feel the anger starting to boil in your veins. this is precisely what you wanted to avoid.

and on the other hand, natasha is failing miserably at hiding her pleased expression. it’s all part of natasha’s favorite game. pushing and pushing until you finally snap. natasha would be lying, if she said the malice in your tone did not excite her and incentive her to keep verbally attacking you.

“and what? become a burnt out loser like yourself? unlike you, i don’t plan on riding on the coattails of my college experience for the rest of my life. some of us have goals and ambitions.”

i scoff, rolling my eyes, trying my best to regain some control over my senses. “right, okay, whatever, natasha. you keep telling yourself that being a cheerleader and majoring in floral arrangements will get you far in life. your future looks like getting on your knees every time you need allowance money from your ugly, cheating husband.”

everyone in the van gasps loudly. you hear sarah, sam’s sister, saying “oh shit.” you do feel a bit embarrassed everyone had to hear and see you like this. no matter how many times you and natasha fight, part of you feels guilty for doing it in front of everyone. natasha simply never knows when to chill. the silence that follows is bone chilling. no one dares utter a word in fear of retaliation from natasha.

natasha, herself, is taken back by the words. she’s dangerously quiet which everyone, yourself included, knows isn’t a good sign. all natasha can do for now is stare at you while threats and insults brew in her mind. you think about apologizing, but then that would make you look weak. confirming everything natasha has ever said about you. you know it is in your best interest and everyone’s safety for you to shut up. stop while you’re ahead. but then again when has the other girl ever backed down? you decide probably to do the dumbest thing possible in the situation.

“hey, sam, mind rolling down those windows?”

sam obliges, letting the crisp air into the van. you pull out the container that holds a half smoked joint and another full one. you rummage around your pockets for the lighter, securing it after a few seconds. the filter rests snuggly between your lips. you nudge natasha’s foot with yours, making sure the girl is watching. then with a quick flick of your lighter, the joint is sparked.

you take a deep inhale then meticulously blow the smoke directly into natasha’s direction. you track the uptick of her plump lips. her jawline becoming more prominent as she grinds her teeth. you can even see natasha digging her perfectly manicured nails into her skin.

“you know…weed is proven to help sexual libido. so maybe it’ll help loosen—“

the van comes to an abrupt stop before you can finish. you’re all jostled around by the unexpected motion. from the view out the windshield, you’re most likely already at the party. sam slams his door shut and opens the back doors. everyone climbs out in somewhat uniformed fashion, you and natasha the first to exit. everyone stretches their limbs, giddy about leaving the confined space and ready for a party.

natasha starts walking away, but sam stops her by the shoulder. she glares at him yet he doesn’t falter. bucky taps on yours and you peel your eyes away from natasha and sam.

“you gotta get back in the van.” bucky whispers with his usual soft yet annoyed tone.

“huh? why? are we leaving or something?’

bucky sighs and shakes his head. “no, nothing like that, just…you gotta go back in. or me and rogers will make you. c’mon.” he steps aside, extending his arm towards the van.

you raise your eyebrows inquisitively, but decide not to protest, simply getting back into the van. the boys are having a lot harder time with natasha. funny considering she’s eight inches shorter and one hundred pounds lighter than all three of them. watching the scene unfold is a bit comical. sam, calmly, asking natasha to listen and not walk off. bucky standing behind her with crossed arms and steve on one side, looking very much worried and frightened. you can see natasha attempt to walk away, but sam grabs her arm. that causes natasha to snap.

she swiftly turns around and knees sam in the balls. sam keels over, cupping his wounded groin. steve’s face turns blank then looks to bucky for help. bucky already moved towards natasha, looping an arm around her waist, lifting the girl over his shoulder. like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, natasha thrashes and screams and pounds her fists into bucky’s back. her blows are landing hard, it seems like, considering bucky winces every time natasha’s fists forcefully meet his back. steve hurriedly grabs the van door for bucky. natasha is gently sat down and they both wait until she gets the hint. she rolls her eyes dramatically, scooting back, almost hitting my legs.

“good. so. we’ve all had enough with the constant fighting.” bucky starts off, rubbing his shoulder.

sam finally reappears with a pissed off expression on his face. “it’s becoming too much. you both ruin the fun every time we all hang out. it’s embarrassing bringing my sister around.”

“we don’t expect you both to become best friends or anything.” steve speaks up.

sam slams one door shut. “but the fighting needs to stop. you two need to figure out how to get along. or at least ignore each other.”

“there’s a child lock on the van door. you can’t escape. the windows are rolled down, so don’t worry about dying or anything. we’ll check back in like 45 minutes. if you need something text wanda. she’s the designated driver for tonight, so she’ll have enough sense.” bucky closes the other door, watching your shocked expressions before leaving you both here with one another.

you’re blinking back your shock, trying to gain some understanding. yeah, you and natasha fought a lot, but was locking you guys in the van really the solution? if anything, only one of you will come out alive.

“close your mouth. even with the window open, i don’t need you stinking up the air.” natasha’s back is leaning against the frame of the van with her legs extended and crossed by the ankle.

“fuck off.”

“brilliant idea! but i can’t, dummy. don’t know if you were listening, you dimwit. we’re trapped here for 45 minutes.”

you move towards the mesh barrier separating the driver’s side and the back of the van. you kneel with your side pressed against the divider, then spark your joint again. but this time, you blow the smoke through the mesh, not in the mood to further aggravate the girl.

natasha intently watches your movements. it surprises her that you have an ounce of consideration. she never ponders too hard on pushing your buttons. it comes like second nature at this point. part of the fun is the audience and humiliating you constantly in front of the friend group. natasha finds that entertaining, not embarrassing, considering that’s an emotion she rarely feels. natasha holds her tongue for now though.

you make note of the quietness. never knowing natasha to shut her mouth. unlike natasha you prefer the silence. you rather never talk to natasha again than fight incessantly. once the joint is finished you check the time—only six minutes have passed. sighing, you adjust back into a sitting position.

you take the time to check natasha out. her tight denim skirt hugs her thighs perfectly, but barely conceals the black underwear underneath. natasha’s baby tee accentuates her breasts and gives them an unneeded, but very welcomed lift. her curtain bangs tickle her eyelashes as her ginger hair rests below her collarbone. you always loved how natasha cut her hair, thinking the layered look frames her face perfectly.

this is all compared to your baggy green cargo pants with the band of your boxers, peeking through, and a basic white tank top that compresses your breasts comfortably. funnily enough, you both are without bras and the chillness of the air causes both your nipples to stay hardened. it seems illogical, but you feel natasha’s eyes on them. as if she’s mentally willing your tank top to remove itself. you shift your eyes to natasha’s face, almost gasping at the look in her eyes. there’s a hunger in them. those emerald orbs staring at you like prey soon to be hunted.

one of natasha’s wickedly delicious smirks appears on her lips. she presses her hands on either side of her body against the floor of the van.

“c’mere.” natasha gestures her head to the empty spot next to her.

you quirk an eyebrow, staring dumbfounded at the other girl. “are you gonna like bite me or something?”

natasha cackles, “you’ll have to beg nicely. now do what i say. i don’t like repeating myself, y/l/n.”

instead of protesting like usual, you sigh and nod, crawling over to natasha’s side. the girl turns her body slightly to look at you. the grin that spreads on natasha’s face sends chills down your spine.

“you know…sometimes i think you like fighting with me. it makes you feel alive. none of those silly, little girls you play with can compete. if you really wanted us to stop fighting, i don’t think you’d let me get under your skin so easily.”

“are you jealous or something? do you want to be one of those girls? is that that this is all about?”

natasha barks out a heinous laughter, throwing her head back. of course, your scope of the situation is small minded, limited to only your perspective. natasha calms down and shakes her head.

“absolutely not. i have a lot more self respect than those airheaded bimbos.”

you roll your eyes, huffing at natasha’s comment and shifting away from the other girl. you’re not sure why you’re letting natasha continue her berating and treatment. but where else could you go? all you do is listen and either fight back or stay quiet. natasha glares at you, once she notices your movements. she grabs the collar of your tank top, forcing you back while bringing you even closer than before.

“did i say you could move away? that’s your problem. empty headed and stubborn. never following directions.” natasha’s hold on your collar loosens, but she keeps you close.

“now…let’s try this again. i’ll give you instructions. you’ll listen. no back talk. i’m not afraid to hurt you. i’ll gladly make you feel some pain.”

natasha’s smile is sickly sweet. it’s tempting, yet stupid, to place an inch of trust in the girl. but maybe it’s not trust. but fear and…want. the curiosity gets the best of you. the weed and traces of tequila corrupt your senses. you should know better. despite the logic screaming in the back of your head, you nod along to natasha’s words.

“see? isn’t that easier?”

natasha’s eyes rakes down your body, tilting her head as if she’s just noticing you. noticing your developed figure with more muscles than the average 21 year old girl. perhaps she understands the allure. the stupid, lustful urge to fake stupidity at a chance of sleeping with you. but natasha regards herself to a much higher status than the girls on her team. it’s the reason she is team captain after all. every hive needs a queen bee.

“take off your shirt.” natasha commands.

she already dropped her hand from the collar. natasha patiently waits for you to follow the instructions. natasha arches an eyebrow when you haven’t made any movements. somehow that incentives you, pulling the tank top over your head and tossing it aside. the sudden rush of the chilly air hardens your nipples even more. your arms instinctively cover your chest needing the warmth and protection. both from the air and natasha’s predatory eyes.

natasha reaches over, peels your arms by digging her nails into your skin. “you don’t get to touch until i’m done with you.”

your breathing falters, heart skipping a beat at the sensation that washes over you. natasha’s faux sweet smile returns on her face. the other girl wastes no time. her hand finding solace on one breast, pinching and twisting your nipple. natasha’s smile spreads once you wince. the undeniable pleasure makes it hard to pretend you’re not into it. you cannot control arching your back into natasha’s unrelenting touch.

natasha’s fingers continue playing with your nipple. she finds the exact roughness that makes you pant. you need more though. even as natasha tugs and pulls, rolling your nipple between her fingers, it only makes you crave more. you unexpectedly let out a low moan. natasha chuckles, pausing her fingers.

“you want more, puppy? it’s not enough? huh? speak.”

your eyes feel heavy as you lift them up to stare into natasha’s. you try your best to form coherent thoughts. but all you can do is nod and say, “yes.”

“yes, what? you’ll have to do better than that. c’mon. you can be a good dog. tell me what you want.”

“more. i need more.”

the response isn’t enough for natasha. she slaps her hand across your breast. immediately afterwards the hand is pressed and wrapped around your throat. you’re still reeling and recovering from the slap. natasha whispers in a firm and clear voice.

“i know there’s more thoughts in that head. you’re not completely a dumb slut. you know what i want. c’mon.”

natasha squeezes the sides of your throat. the additional pressure does nothing for forming those sentences she wants out of you. your thoughts are leaking out of you as the time passes. the more natasha demands of you and touches you—the more your wetness pools more into your boxers. but natasha is right. you do know what she wants. the demanding tone of her voice paired with her roughness makes it clear. you wish you could spit out a, fuck you. yet where would that get you?

you groan once natasha tugs you by the neck, your lips brushing against each other. “f-fine. fine. god. please…natasha…i need more. i need you to fuck me…please.”

“ah! good puppy! you did it! see? you just need to be trained.”

natasha crashes her lips into yours as soon as the last words leave hers. you both moan at the immediate contact. all the years of fighting and hatred built up for this one moment. everything momentarily made sense. it clicked. natasha doesn’t ask for permission as her tongue creeps into your mouth. her grip is still firm on your neck. you graciously allow the girl access without hesitation. with quickness natasha sucks on your tongue making the most obscene noises to grace your ears.

you’re not sure when it happened, but natasha’s free hand already loosened the button on your pants and the zipper. it’s only when you feel the girl’s hand cupping your soaked pussy through your boxers that you noticed. your hips instinctively buck into the girl’s hand. natasha bites your lip in retaliation. once her teeth are removed, you taste a familiar metallic taste on your teeth.

“what the fuck natasha?” you touch your lips, pulling away slightly, to inspect the blood.

natasha only smiles, revealing a little bit of blood on her lips too. natasha rises on her knees, not saying a word, as she rolls her black thong down her legs. she sits back down next to you, in order to remove it completely. your eyes sparkle hopefully. the idea of fucking natasha or even tasting the cheerleader drives you crazy beyond repair. but natasha has other ideas.

once her thong is secured in hand, natasha commands, “open up, mutt.”

you obey, naturally, as natasha crumples the thong into a ball and shoves it into your mouth. as your eyes widen both in disbelief and at the faint taste of natasha, the girl pats your head.

“dogs have to be muzzled until they learn to obey and listen.”

you cannot even process the magnitude of her words before natasha’s hand slides down your boxers. her fingers dance across your tiny bush. you widen your legs in response. you’re practically panting, like the mutt natasha claims you are. her fingertips are already met with your slick. you don’t even know how it was possible to already be this wet. you must’ve been turned on a lot earlier and faster than you realized. you hold your breath when natasha briefly circles your clit, but it doesn’t last long.

without much warning, natasha sinks two fingers deep inside of you. you almost choke on the spit gathering in your throat. natasha surprises you by leaning into your neck, kissing and biting your neck. your eyes practically roll into the back of your head. your moans are muffled but natasha can still hear them. she curls her fingers then starts pumping them languidly. it’s definitely her way of teasing you, making you desperate for more. and you are. natasha savors the feeling of your pussy snug around her fingers. how warm and wet you feel every time her fingers move inside you. with each stroke, natasha can feel more of your wetness pooling around them.

but it’s still not enough. you know it and natasha knows it. natasha peels herself off your neck, removing the makeshift gag. an immediate whine leaves your lips. natasha rolls her eyes at your desperation.

“beg, mutt.”

natasha’s fingers have stalled until she gets what she wants. the girl stares expectantly. waiting with a subtle smile on her face because natasha knows.

“please, nat, faster…harder…it’s not enough, please. please, i’ll be good.”

“you will? then say you’re a pathetic mutt. then i’ll consider it.”

tears form in your eyes, as natasha starts moving her fingers in and out of you again. only giving you small doses of what you want.

“c’mon, say it.”

“i’m…fuck…okay. i’m a pathetic mutt. please.”

natasha’s giddiness translates into a giggle. she cannot believe she’s able to push you this far. it was almost too easy. natasha pretends to think it over. you’re about to protest but the thong is back in your mouth. then her fingers slam into you repeatedly, over and over, unrelenting and with no hesitation. through your muffled moans and cries, you can hear the squelching sounds of your cunt being fucked. natasha captures her bottom lip between her teeth. you’re completely blissed out. your head tipped back, bare chest rising and falling dramatically and eyes barely open. natasha can feel you tighten around her fingers. you whine pathetically not wanting to come so quickly. but natasha doesn’t care. somehow her fingers move even harder, pushing you even further to the edge. then her thumb sloppily massages circles over your clit. that’s all it takes for you to see white. the gag pushes out slightly. you bite down on it once your orgasm reaches its head.

you can hear natasha laughing, but it all sounds underwater to you. her fingers never once stop their force and speed. it’s all becoming too overwhelming as you attempt to squirm and wiggle out from her grasp. natasha’s free hand finds the back of your head. her fingers tangle in your hair, forcefully jerking your head back.

“only i get to tell you when you’re done, mutt.” natasha seethes near your ear. a text chimes on both your phones. time must be up soon. natasha groans, pulling her fingers out of your cunt.

the sudden empty feeling makes you almost weep. you stare at natasha with widened eyes. you can’t tell if you’re embarrassed or still horribly turned on. natasha removes her underwear before wiping her wet fingers on your chest. you watch as natasha shoves her thong into her tiny purse.

“don’t just fucking look at me. get dressed.”

once you’re dressed and somewhat decent again, you open your camera, noticing your busted lip. there’s bite marks on your neck and a few small hickeys.

“what the fuck natasha…c’mon. how am i supposed to explain this to everyone?”

you angle your neck towards the girl. natasha barely acknowledges them and shrugs. her expression is indifferent. natasha doesn’t even bother replying because the van door opens. the boys all stare nervously, like they’re half expecting to find a dead body. natasha pushes you off to the side, scooting out of the van, as if nothing happened.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #black widow #dream girl evil!au #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you

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